


Forever And A Day

by Sashataakheru



Series: The Disturbance Universe [4]
Category: Brum (TV) (1992), The Move
Genre: Community: apocalypsebang, Dragons, Dreams, Dubious Consent, Grumpy Old Men, Gun Violence, M/M, Multi, Post-Apocalypse, Survival, Walking, Werewolves, astral realms, bombing raids, escaping from soldiers, guardian spirits, journey fic, scavenging, transformations, traumatised characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 22:26:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 65,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dragon has been fought, the zombies have been stopped, but the worst is yet to come. Most of the survivors don't care about what's happening as they are brought into army camps to begin trying to recover what's left of society, too shocked by the apocalypse to question what's going on. Back at the museum, Brum doesn't understand why things aren't back the way they used to be, and goes off to find Roy and Trevor in the hope that they might explain things to him. He doesn't get to stay long before trouble comes, and with his friends, is forced to leave the city he loves behind and flee into the big, bad, dangerous world to find the werewolves and sanctuary from the storm that's coming</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Apocalyptic Big Bang round one. Masterpost with art links can be found [here.](http://3evilmuses.dreamwidth.org/59159.html)
> 
> I make no apologies for this. I'm pretty sure this comes from the part of my brain that thinks almost everything is better with zombies. :D Also, this is a sequel to 'Brum and the Apocalypse', which tells the story of the Apocalypse, which is itself a sequel to The Disturbance, which tells the story of the original apocalypse that began this story back in 1967.

**Prologue**

No one knows where they originally came from. Most stories about the Apocalypse say the sea boiled, the skies turned red, and from out of the mist they walked up onto the shores as the seas retreated in fear. Entire coastal towns vanished into the sea as the waves rose up over them, drowning the land. All that remains are the crumbling ruins of buildings that were once full of people.

No one goes to the coast anymore. Those who survived moved inland as the peoples of Britain became ever more isolated from the rest of the world. The sea has become a place of nightmares, with stories told to children around campfires to warn them to stay away. Rivers, too, are dangerous places as they lead to the sea. 

It's been a long time since all that happened though, or at least it feels that way. It's not ancient history. Ancient history doesn't hurt as much as this does. I'm not as young as I used to be, and living like a survivor has taken its toll. We all saw Hell that night. The dreams just never go away. I've seen people throw themselves into the sea to find some sort of peace. Their bodies wash up on the shores, forgotten, with no one to bury them and no one to remember their names.

It started at Land's End. No one saw it coming until it was too late.


	2. Chapter 2

Brum was happy to be back in the museum. It was home, and he liked being there with the other cars, waiting for people to come and see him. The museum was his whole world, and he liked its consistency. It was always there when he came home from an adventure, reliable and secure. He'd sneak back in and no one would ever know he was gone.

At least, that's how it had been before the zombies. 

Things were different now. Some of the cars were missing, and Brum noticed that no one ever seemed to come to the museum anymore. Brum had gone out on adventures a few times, but all his friends were gone, so he came home, sad and disappointed. He wondered where they'd all gone. All that was left in the big city were soldiers and their big strong tanks. Brum found them quite threatening, and they didn't let him go into the city very far. They said it was quarantined, whatever that meant.

Brum didn't understand what was going on. They'd killed the zombies. They'd killed that dragon. So why weren't things back the way they were before? What had happened to make things change so much? Brum didn't know, and it troubled him. The other cars were no help, because they had stayed in the museum. They had no idea what Brum was talking about, and told him to stop worrying about it. 

But that wasn't something Brum could do. His friends were gone, and everything had changed. 

It took a few days to realise the Museum Man hadn't been back to open up the workshop for several days. It hadn't bothered Brum too much because he'd found another way out through a gap in one of the walls. But if the Museum man wasn't there anymore, what happened to him? What if he'd been killed too? Where had he gone? Why would he just leave without him? Answers were not forthcoming, and it worried Brum terribly. 

He decided he should do what he was good at. He should go out adventuring to see if he could find the Museum Man. He snuck out of the museum and drove into the courtyard out the front. No one was around, and the place looked deserted. A door across the way was left hanging open, and upon going inside, Brum found nothing but silent darkness. 

"But where could he have gone? Why did he leave? Should we leave too? Is it going to get dangerous again?" Brum said to himself as he drove away from the museum. 

He stopped at the bridge, and looked across the park. It was definitely too quiet. Something was wrong, and there was no one around to tell him what to do. Perhaps he should go find Roy again. Roy knew what to do last time. Maybe he'd know what to do now. He did say he could come and see him, if he wanted to. But as he drove off, Brum realised he didn't even know where Roy lived. How was he supposed to find him now? 

"Oh dear, oh dear, this isn't going very well, is it? I wonder where all the people have gone?" Brum said. "Maybe if I ask the soldiers, maybe they'll tell me where everyone is." 

It was the only plan he had, so he drove off to the city to find a soldier to talk to. Brum would go find Roy, and maybe he would help him figure out what was going on.

* * *

Brum thought the city looked disturbingly eerie as he drove through it. There was still debris and broken buildings, fallen trees and dead bodies. The place was a mess, and the soldiers were apparently helping to clean up. He saw a group lifting bodies onto the back of a truck as he passed, watching them on the other side of the canal. Further on, there was a pile of bodies being burnt in a small pyre, though all Brum could make out was the abstract shapes hidden by the soldiers standing in front of the fire, watching it burn.

The city had never been so quiet. There was no one in sight, except for the soldiers. It was as if the entire city had been emptied of people. Driving slowly, it began to dawn on him just how widespread the damage was. He didn't really understand what had happened, and the idea that a zombie was a dead person who'd come back to life didn't make much sense to him. He wasn't sure he understood death the same way his human friends did. And if zombies were people, was it still alright to kill them? He knew that hurting people was wrong, but Roy said it was alright for zombies. But zombies were people too, weren't they? 

Confused, Brum drove on until he found a group of soldiers on the side of the road. They smiled as they saw him approach, as if they recognised him, and waved him over. 

"Oh, hello! Can you help me? I want to know where all the people are! I want to find someone, but I don't know where to go. Where did everyone go? Did the zombies take them?" Brum asked as he drove up to them.

"The zombies got a lot of people, but not everyone died. If you're looking for the camps, try the one in Sutton Park first. Just keep heading north, you should find it there soon enough," the soldier said.

Brum was delighted to have somewhere to start. "Oh, thank you, Mr Soldier! I'll go there right away! Thank you!" 

Tooting his horn, he set off in the direction the soldier had indicated. He didn't really know precisely where he was going, but the more he drove on, the more soldiers he saw, and they were happy to point him in the right direction.

* * *

It took all day to get to Sutton Park. It was further away than Brum had thought. It was a strange sight to behold. The once beautiful park had been surrounded by a high fence, and there were soldiers guarding every inch of the perimeter. Brum didn't like that. These soldiers didn't greet him when he drove up to them, but they did grudgingly let him in. 

The camp itself was a miserable affair. The park had been covered with a makeshift collection of basic accommodation, from musty green canvas tents to small wooden huts, anything that could provide a temporary place to live as they gathered up the survivors. _They don't look very nice,_ Brum thought as he drove past them. Frightened faces peered out at him as he drove through the camp, but they didn't say hello. Usually children loved seeing Brum, but these children wore sullen expressions. They turned their faces away when Brum came near, not wanting to talk to him. 

One small boy was crying, clinging to his mother fearfully. Brum stopped, wondering why he was crying. He went to approach, hoping he might be able to cheer him up, but the mother shooed him away. Hurt and confused, Brum drove on, asking anyone if they'd seen Roy. He didn't have a very good description of him so perhaps that was why no one had seen him. 

By the time night fell, Brum had searched every inch of the camp, and he hadn't found him. It was getting cold now, and Brum wasn't sure he wanted to drive back so late at night. Perhaps he should stay in the camp too. Maybe he'd find the Museum Man if he looked again tomorrow. Settling down underneath a low bush, he shut down his engine and went to sleep.  


* * *

Roy hadn't lived in this particular house for many years, but it hadn't stopped him moving in once the camps began to be set up. It was the first safe haven he'd thought of once they'd come back from Cardiff after disposing of the zombie dragon and ending the apocalypse. It had been easier in the chaos that had followed to slip back and set up without anyone noticing.

Things had not stayed that way, though. Roy was worried, and didn't trust the soldiers as far as he could throw them. He only had Trevor for company. Their werewolf friends, Ace, Bev, and Carl, had been with them for a few weeks, but they had disappeared during the last full moon over a week ago without a trace, and Roy took that as a bad omen. He'd spent the last week scavenging with Trevor, packing all they could as they prepared the things they'd need for when it ever got too dangerous to stay. Roy was convinced it wasn't a matter of if, anymore. One day soon, they would have to leave, and he wanted to make sure they were prepared for when that day came. 

The house had also provided an opportunity to keep an eye on the soldiers. A communications cable had been laid conveniently nearby and Trevor spent little time tapping it so they could keep an eye on what they were doing without being seen. Spying wasn't entirely productive, however. Knowing what they were planning without the ability to do anything about it made the whole exercise seem pointless, and all it had done was made Roy increasingly paranoid. Trevor had thought Ace had been bad back in the day, but even he hadn't managed Roy's depressingly conspiratorial paranoia, which was only unhelpfully backed up by the communications they were spying on. Roy might've had a good reason to worry, but that didn't help matters.

Trevor approached him one day as he was packing as much cold weather gear as he could. "Say it does get too dangerous to stay-"

"It will, just give it time," Roy interjected.

Trevor looked at him. "Where're we going to go, Roy? What are we going to do out there? Wander the countryside aimlessly until things get better? You know that's never going to happen. I reckon we'd die out there before things ever get better." 

Roy continued working as he replied. "We find the werewolves. Why would we do anything else? At least we'd have them for protection if we absolutely needed it. And we'd be away from here."

Trevor shook his head in disbelief. "That could take months, years even! No way can we carry that much gear. Are you expecting to be able to scavenge enough food along the way?" 

"Of course. It's only the big cities that are dangerous. I'm sure there's plenty of stuff out there in the countryside for us to use. Scavenging as we go means we can carry less. I'm sure we might find something more useful out there. Plenty of that kind of stuff around farms and the like. We'll be fine," Roy said.

"You don't know that. You don't even know where the werewolves are. They might've crossed to the Continent by now. How are we going to find them? We could be wandering aimlessly and starve to death in the middle of a Scottish winter or something horrid," Trevor said.

Roy stopped and looked over at him. "You really think I'd be so daft I'd just go wandering out there with no idea where we were going? Why would you think I didn't have a plan in mind? I ain't preparing for no good reason, y'know. I ain't daft like that."

"Alright then, how're we going to find those bloody werewolves then? We don't know where they bloody are. Could take us years. We might die before then," Trevor said.

Roy did not look pleased at his words. He took out a small black pouch and pulled his pendulum out. "We find 'em with this, alright? Just bloody trust me for once, will you? I know what I'm doing."

Trevor rolled his eyes, distinctly unimpressed by the presence of that pendulum. "Not that bloody thing again. You've gone daft, you have. Normal people use maps, y'know. At least Ace never bloody thought the Government were coming to get him!"

Roy turned his back on him as he put the pendulum away. "Yes, he bloody well did. Don't you remember the Wilson thing? He'd have bloody well run away to France if he'd had a chance. And we had real spies following us back then, too. Don't say he weren't paranoid for no good reason, because he was. It was the one thing he really _was_ right to worry about."

"Alright, yeah, I get your point. I was wrong, I'm - look, I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. But try to see it from my perspective, will you? You're here claiming you've got enough psychic powers to find those werewolves. But how do you know it works? How can you be so sure it'll lead you in the right direction? I'm afraid we'll end up wandering aimlessly while you claim to know where we're going. I'm just not sure that's the best strategy. I just - I don't have any faith in that thing. I can't see how that sort of thing will ever work like you say it does. All I've got is your word it'll work. I'm not sure that's enough for me," Trevor said, sounding calmer than he had a moment ago.

Roy turned around, his anger subdued for the moment. They'd been fighting like this for days, but Roy didn't blame anything but the awful situation they'd found themselves in, and the trauma he was sure they'd both brushed aside in favour of survival. If they didn't think about it, they wouldn't go mad.

"No, Trev, I'm sorry, I know it's daft, expecting you to just believe me when I say it'll work. I wish I had something more concrete to go on, but this is all we're left with. They didn't say where they were going. They just up and left one night, and we're left here on our own. I'm sure they meant for us to follow them, though. I can't believe they'd just leave us here to survive on our own. Maybe they left signs for us, ones no one would ever notice except us. We're going to have to be so careful, Trev. We don't know what it's going to be like out there. We assume there'll be no soldiers, but maybe that'll change in a week. Maybe some foreign troops will turn up. Maybe we'll be bloody invaded. I just don't know. All I've got are my gut instincts and my pendulum. What else would you have me do? What else could we do?" Roy said.

"I don't know, alright? It just feels so - I wish I could have faith in it like you do, but I just can't get my head around how that's meant to work. I don't get it, and I don't believe it all works like you say it does. But it is all we've got, so I'm going to have to trust you anyway. Maybe you'll make a believer out of me in the end if we manage to find the wolves after all," Trevor said.

Roy offered him a smile. "Maybe. Why don't you go find me some maps and a compass or two? Any paper maps you can find from any part of the UK. That'll help us out there, even if we're not using the pendulum to navigate. It's not going to give us anything other than a direction to follow. It's not so sophisticated it'll give us a route on the map, not for this. We're going to have to keep a bearing for as long as we can until we find them. It's how it works when I'm searching for people. It'll get more accurate the closer we get. Look, I wish as much as you that I could just call 'em up and ask where they are, but without that, this is our only alternative. I've got to trust myself as much as anything, because I'm the one who's going to be guiding us. If I read it wrong, we could get lost. But I hope the fates are on our side, because I think we're going to need them."

Trevor sat down in an armchair nearby, resigned to Roy's decision. He knew it was the only thing they had left, but that didn't mean he liked it. But because it was all they had, he'd just have to trust Roy more than he'd probably ever trusted him before.

* * *

Brum woke to find dew and a little frost on his bonnet. He wished there was someone to wipe him down and clean him up, but he was on his own. Leaving the bush with leaves sticking to him, he drove off. He would go ask the soldiers if there was another camp. Maybe Roy was elsewhere. He had to be somewhere. He was quite sure Roy was still alive. 

The soldiers were somewhat reluctant to tell him where to go when Brum asked where the other camps were. One suggested he would be better staying where he was, but Brum firmly declined. He needed to find Roy, and insisted they tell him where else he could search. Somewhat reluctantly, they pointed him in the direction of another camp further north. Finally armed with the information he needed, Brum set off, hoping to find Roy this time.

The road he had turned down was long and straight, and there were trees and high fences lining it. These houses looked quite posh, but Brum couldn't really see them to tell. As he got halfway down the street, he saw a man walking up ahead, and tooted his horn, hoping to get his attention. 

"Excuse me! Can you help me? I'm looking for someone!" Brum called as he drove up to him. 

Brum was as surprised as the man before him as he saw Roy turn to look down at him. Brum was delighted, and he tooted his horn in excitement. 

"Oh, it's you! I've been looking all over for you! The people went away, Roy. The nice man at the museum left me all alone, and I was so scared, Roy. I didn't know what to do, so I came to find you. What's going on? Why are there soldiers and camps all over the place? I saw them burning bodies, Roy. Were they zombies? Are you allowed to burn zombies?" Brum asked, unable to hold back his questions.

"Shh, don't make such a song and dance about it. I don't know if we're being watched. Come with me, and be quiet, alright?" Roy said, glancing over his shoulder as he gestured for him to follow.

Brum thought that sounded quite exciting, and followed him into one of the houses. Roy hurriedly ushered him inside, glancing nervously down the street. The front door was bolted shut once they were inside. Brum noticed it was dark inside, and the curtains were drawn across the windows to block out the light.

"What's going on, Roy? I don't understand what's going on," Brum said.

Roy looked down at him. It tempered his irritation. "It's not looking good, kid. I - follow me. We'll talk when we're safe."

Brum noticed the seriousness in his voice, and followed him down the back of the house. A room had been cordoned off, and Roy helped him through into what appeared like a bunker. It was dark and horrible, and the only light was a small lamp hanging from the ceiling. In the darkness, Brum could just make out another face, and turned his headlamps towards him to see who it was. To his surprise, he saw Trevor sitting there.

"Oh, it's you! Are you two playing hide and seek? Why are you hiding down here?" Brum asked.

Trevor sighed, and glanced at him. "Man, I wish this was just a game. They've gone crazy out there. We're hiding in here to avoid the soldiers. They're not safe. No one's safe when they're around." 

Brum didn't like the sound of that. "But - but they were so nice to me. They showed me where to go." 

"Yeah, they did that, but they don't care about you. Did you notice no one talks about the zombies? No? Well, it's been spun as some sort of pandemic, so they've evacuated all the cities for cleansing. All the survivors are now living in those gated camps, and they're so fucking grateful they haven't even noticed what's going on. But they wouldn't anyway. There's no media anymore. All got wiped out with the Apocalypse. There's no internet, no newspapers, no television, no radio. All they know is what the soldiers tell them, and they trust 'em cos they got the big guns. But we've got a wire down here, so we know what's going on. We can't reveal ourselves, or they'll know we've escaped their control. They've ripped up everything good about this country and turned it into a dictatorship. Everyone's in trouble, but they're too shocked to notice," Trevor said.

Brum wasn't entirely sure he understood everything he'd said, but whatever Trevor was talking about, it didn't sound good. "Are we in trouble? What's going to happen? Can't we fix it?"

Roy shrugged and sat down beside Trevor. "Dunno. No idea. All we know is that the emergency powers the Government has enacted are so severe it will be almost impossible to rescind them without brute force and a complete change of Government. They're opportunistic Tory thieves, the lot of them."

"I never did trust those pricks, and look what happened. Now we're totally fucked," Trevor said.

"So they're the bad guys, are they? What did they do? Can we do anything about it? Bad people should be caught," Brum said.

Roy managed a half-smile as he looked down at Brum. "Ahh, if only it was that simple. It's not something we can fight like that. We can't just do that. I don't think there's anything we can do except keep spying and hope we don't get caught."

And that seemed to be the end of it. Brum felt lost and confused. He didn't know what they were talking about, and they didn't seem keen to explain it. Perhaps he should've stayed at the museum. There was silence for a while. 

"Roy, will you tell me what happened? I don't understand why everything's changed. I want to understand what's going on. It's bad, isn't it? I know that, but I don't understand it," Brum ventured.

"No, I'm not going to worry you with all that, lad. You're too young to be dealing with Governments. Just stick with us. Can't let you out anyway, they'd see you and then they'd find us here. Trust me, you don't want that to happen, alright?" Roy said after a while.

Brum decided to trust him. He had no other ideas of what he could do anyway. The Museum wasn't his home anymore, not if the Museum Man wasn't there too. Maybe one day Roy would explain things to him, but for now, he'd just have to leave it to them to deal with.

* * *

It had been a week since Brum had arrived at Roy's house. He'd been stuck inside ever since. Roy was too paranoid to let him go outside in case they were spotted, so he'd reluctantly kept to the house. It wasn't much fun, though. Brum was not quite small enough for a house, and there were only a few rooms downstairs he could easily roam around in without crashing into anything. He had not made it upstairs, because cars, as a rule, cannot climb stairs, even a little yellow car like Brum.

It had just made him sad. Every room he could access was too familiar. The curtains were all drawn, leaving the house dark and dreary. The weather had not helped. It had rained every day, hard and cold, and Brum was sure he felt the house shudder once, as if it was freezing to death from the chill of the rain. 

Brum had not managed to gain any more explanations from Roy either. Roy was being very guarded, and had spent most of the week reading his cards, just like he'd done before the zombies appeared. Brum watched him for a while. He'd just sit there, shuffling the cards, before dealing five out in front of him. Over and over again, he would shuffle and deal the cards, and always the same five would come up. Brum recognised two of the cards, but not the others. 

"Why do you keep reading the cards? They don't seem to be telling you anything else," Brum asked.

Roy glanced up at him as he dealt out the Ten of Swords into the third position. "I like being sure."

"What do these cards mean anyway? I don't understand them. Is this a game? I like games," Brum said.

Roy finished dealing the last two cards, the same two that had always come up, and sat back. "You really want to know? It's not good news. But the cards haven't been giving me good news since I got them forty five years ago."

"I want to understand what's been going on. I have bad dreams. And everyone's gone. What's wrong? I can't go into the city anymore, and there are soldiers all over the place," Brum said.

Roy sighed. He pointed at the first card. "This one is The World, and it refers to the first Apocalypse forty years ago. It was the end of that cycle, and the beginning."

"Is that a good card? What's an apocalypse anyway? I've never heard that word before," Brum said.

"Apocalypse means the end of the world. Only we stopped it the first time, so it came back and tried again. That's what we did, kid. We stopped the dragon, and halted the second Apocalypse," Roy said.

Brum could've sworn he felt a shiver through his body. "Feels like the end of the world out there, that's for sure." 

"It is. It's horrible. I don't think anyone has quite grasped just how many people have died. It's an impossible number to deal with. If there's even a million people left in the country, I'd be very surprised. This Apocalypse was never meant to fail, and that dragon made sure of that. It just didn't anticipate we'd be brought in to stop it." Roy shrugged. "That's what that second card means. That's the Tower, and it means catastrophic destruction. Sudden and dreadful destruction. That's what we've just lived through, and by all accounts, living through it was a miracle in itself."

"What's a million? Is that a really big number?" Brum asked. 

"It's big, yeah. But I won't worry you about that. You don't need to know the exact numbers. They're probably too big for you to grasp. Just know that, of all the people in the United Kingdom, there's only a small fraction of them left. We were very nearly completely wiped out. That's how bad it was. But no one really understands that yet because it's still too fresh in everyone's minds, and they're all so isolated that they don't know what's happening in the rest of the country. Maybe one day we'll all come to terms with it, but that's not going to happen for a while," Roy said.

"So what do these other cards mean?" Brum said.

"The Ten of Swords here is emphasising the Tower. We've entered a period of total disaster. Everything is ruined, and we will never get it back. But it is the final disaster. There won't be another Apocalypse. The seven of swords here is warning of problems to come, though. It's asking us to play the long game, and not act rashly. They are not problems that can be solved directly. We'll have to escape, I think. The nine of swords is the oppressive Government that's slipping into place unnoticed because, like I said, everyone's isolated. All they know is what the soldiers tell them, so they won't see it coming until it's too late. By then, they'll be resigned to their fate. This isn't going to go away quickly. This regime will be in place for many years. It may be ten years. It may be fifty. I don't know. The cards haven't put a fixed number on it yet. But there's trouble coming, and we need to be careful. That's why we're hiding out. I have to be careful with the cards, too, because Trev just heard on the wire that they've been reminding everyone that the Fraudulent Mediums Act is still in place, and there are harsh penalties around for anyone caught doing any kind of card reading, or contacting spirits of the dead, or any other psychic practices."

"Is that what you're doing? Contacting dead spirits?" Brum asked.

"No, I don't do that kind of mediumship. This is divination, pure and simple. I'm a seer, and the cards show me the future. It's a curse as much as a gift. I'm going to have to be very careful if I ever go out there, because just doing a simple reading like this out in the open could get me thrown in jail for years. It isn't a safe world out there, not now. I think I'd prefer the zombies to this. I think it's going to break us," Roy said.

Brum didn't like the sound of that. He wished things had stayed just like they had before. Nothing Roy said comforted him. He left him alone, feeling sad and upset.

* * *

Brum went to the bunker out the back, where Trevor was monitoring the wire they'd intercepted. It was never very interesting, at least not to Brum, but he liked keeping Trevor company. It had to be boring spending all that time listening to boring things. Brum didn't really see the point of it. 

"Hey, there you are. You tired Roy out already?" Trevor said in greeting as Brum made his way over the threshold into the bunker. 

It was very dark still, and the only light came from the lantern. Brum lit his headlamps and tried to make the space brighter, at least so it didn't feel quite so scary. 

"He told me scary things. I didn't like hearing about it. Nothing good is going to happen, and I'm not sure I really understand it. He was reading those cards again, the ones I don't understand," Brum said.

"Did he frighten you with the Tower again? He needs to stop doing that. It can't be that bad. I know there's danger around, and the wire confirms some of the things he's seeing, but I think he's being a little over-dramatic. He's treating it like this is the real Apocalypse. I'd have said that was the zombies," Trevor said.

"What are zombies, anyway? You never told me. If they're people who've come back to life, does that still make it alright to kill them? Maybe we shouldn't have done that," Brum said, concerned. He had been dreaming about those too, and he wasn't sure if it was still alright now that everything had begun to settle down.

Trevor shrugged. "They were brought back to life. That sort of thing just doesn't happen to dead people. Not normally, anyway. Only a dragon could do that. Normally, dead things stay dead. And anyway, they were trying to eat us, so you could argue it was self-defence."

"What's dead, anyway? I don't think I really understand it. Is it the same as when my battery runs out and I need a new one? Is that dead?" Brum asked.

"I would've said it was more like when a car gets scrapped. Batteries aren't the same things. That's more like running out of energy. You can recharge batteries. Speaking of which, how are you doing anyway? I might be able to rig up something to keep yours charged, if you like. I wouldn't want you running out of juice," Trevor said.

Brum revved his engine to get a sense of how much battery power he still had left. "It still feels pretty full, but I don't know. It's never lasted this long before. I thought it might've run down more than it has. I did travel an awfully long way to get here. Maybe the red dragon fixed me so I wouldn't run out of power?" 

"Could be. I found some jumper leads in the shed out the back I can use to rig up a charger for you, though, if you ever need it," Trevor said.

"Thanks, Trevor! I'll let you know!" Brum said, excitedly. He didn't need food or water, but he did need a full battery. He was pleased Trevor had thought about that. "So have you heard anything interesting yet?"

Trevor paused a moment, pressing the earphone close to hear what was being said. "Oh, that's not good. More soldiers aren't a good sign. And I think that was a reference to suburban patrols. Wait." He listened a moment longer, indicating for Brum to be silent. "Patrols through the suburbs to make sure they are totally empty, then - Oh, shit. They're going to _burn everything down._ Shit. We're going to have to leave. We can't escape that. Come on, we need to move now. They'll be here tomorrow morning."

* * *

Roy was not keen to leave when Trevor told him what he'd heard, but he wasn't stupid enough to stay put. Packing all they could manage to carry that they thought might be useful, they left as soon as they could, making sure to keep as hidden as possible to avoid being seen and dragged in with the rest of the survivors. Staying free was the highest priority.

The street was safe enough. It was empty of traffic and quiet. In the distance, army trucks could be heard, and someone was shouting instructions through a loud-hailer. 

"So where are we going then?" Brum asked as he revved his engine.

Roy looked back towards the park. "North. Away from them. We'll stop at the nearest safe place we can find. Once we're safe, we'll think about where to go from there. Right now, we need to get away from the city." 

Brum sensed the danger in the air, but for once, it wasn't overwhelmed by excitement. It had been made clear to him that the world was now a dangerous place. He had well and truly left the confines of his safe, secure world, ever since the zombies appeared. Being out in the wider world, where danger was real and immediate, was a shock he wasn't expecting. He still didn't know how to deal with it, but there would be time for that later. Right now, they had to flee, and the city was about to be destroyed. 

Just as they turned to head down the street, there was a bright flash of light, and the shining figure of a large bull appeared in the middle of the street, stopping them from proceeding. 

"You can see that, right? That bloody bull?" Roy whispered, unsure he wasn't just imagining it.

"Yeah, I see it. What is it? Why's it here?" Trevor murmured.

"Is it real? What's making it appear like that? Can we talk to it?" Brum said, trying to keep his voice down. 

Roy took a step forward. The bull shook his head, and turned, walking away from them. After a few steps, it looked back, as if wondering why they weren't following. He called to them, his voice long and mournful.

"I think we'd better follow it, don't you think?" Brum said as he moved forward a little.

The thought hadn't occurred to Roy at all, but it was clear now that the bull was indeed trying to get them to follow him. 

"Yes, I think we'd better follow him. I bet that bloody red dragon sent him. Nice to know he's still watching over us," Roy said. "Come on, best get moving. We don't have a lot of time."


	3. Chapter 3

Their progress was slow. Forced to walk on foot with everything they thought they could manage, they did not get very far very fast. The bull kept in front of them, nagging them to keep going. Roy had not heard any message from it, and had no idea where it might be leading them, but they kept on anyway. Roy had a feeling it might be some sort of guardian spirit, though why it was only trying to save them he didn't know. 

In some ways, Roy was not surprised some sort of spirit had come to his aid. The red dragon back in Cardiff Castle had given them the weapon he'd needed to kill the zombie dragon and stop the apocalypse. In talking to the red dragon, it had implied that somehow Roy and his friends had been chosen to stop the apocalypse. All Roy could take from that was that Someone in the Universe was interested in keeping him alive, and if that meant following a bull spirit to safety, he was going to bloody do it, even if he didn't know who had sent it to his aid. He felt that was a question better left till later, assuming, of course, that he would ever know for certain.

They kept to the shadows. There were patrols of soldiers driving all over the place, moving back towards the city. They had to stop frequently and hide as they drove past. They had tried to take shortcuts through the paddocks, but Brum had become bogged a couple of times in soggy ground, so they'd returned to the road. Roy did not like being so visible, but there was no other option. The bull led on.

Dawn was approaching by the time the bull stopped. The sky was a dark red, as if it was a reflection of the impossible number of deaths there had been. Someone had soaked the horizon in their blood. Roy felt a shiver up his spine.

The bull had led them to an old pillbox beside the River Tame. Roy could make out the silhouettes of several more of the old wartime bunkers further down. It wasn't much, but Roy did think it appropriate they had been led to a bomb shelter. As they slipped inside, they could still see the bull outside, its light shining all around them. Roy thought it was watching for danger. Eventually, it stepped inside with them. The whole room glowed, and it bowed its majestic head to them. 

"Who are you? Why did you lead us here?" Roy asked.

The bull blinked slowly and stamped a foot. He shook his head and circled them before stopping in front of them in a pose both Roy and Trevor recognised instantly.

"Oh. It's you! From the Bullring! I should've known it was you," Roy said, silently scolding himself for not making the connection sooner. He had not thought the bronze statue even had a guardian spirit imbued within it; he'd walked past it many times, and not sensed any kind of spirit there at all, and he was usually good at sensing spirits. The statue had not been in place for more than two years, completely at odds with just how old the bull spirit felt. It had thrown him completely, and he had no idea where it might've come from. Perhaps it belonged to the Bullring itself, and not the statue; perhaps the statue had just given it form. Roy wasn't sure he'd ever know. "So are you going to guide us somewhere then? Who sent you anyway? Did someone ask you to take care of us? Is that why you appeared to us?"

The bull shook his head. He didn't appear to be able to communicate with them verbally, but Roy persisted. He would figure out how to communicate with the bull anyway, because he felt he would never know the answers to his questions if the bull remained mute. 

"So, if you're not going to guide us, are you going to watch over us then?" Roy ventured.

The bull bowed, as if it was his way of acknowledging what he'd said was correct. He slowly blinked at them again. Brum caught the bull's gaze, and he was struck by just how old he felt. He had never been around anything that felt that old, except perhaps the red dragon. 

The bull appeared to think that was the end of the conversation. With one final shake of his head, he left the pillbox and slowly faded until he was invisible. Left alone, no one spoke. Trevor eventually broke the silence. 

"Either that just happened, or someone is seriously fucking with us." 

Roy glanced at the door guardedly as he turned to unpack some food for breakfast. "No, that happened. Someone's probably still fucking with us though. Right. We'll stay here today and wait for the soldiers to stop moving. If it's safe tonight, we might head off then. Darkness will be easier to hide in, at least until we get out of the suburbs. I doubt we'll find many survivors out there, but there should be enough to scavenge."

"What do you want me to do? Should I keep watch? I'm good at that," Brum said.

"No, the bull will take care of that, I think. You get some rest. You'll need it," Roy said.

Brum was very tired, now that he thought about it. He'd been travelling for such a long time. His tyres were hot and worn out! After saying goodnight to his friends, he found a dark corner, turned off his engine, and went to sleep.

* * *

Roy was dealing out his cards again, for wont of something to do, while Trevor cooked up a quick meal of baked beans and toast. Roy had no idea how much of what they had would be at all useful, but anything they lacked could be scavenged somewhere. He had decided they would risk a sojourn into town to see if there was anything they could find that might help them along. He had half a hope he might find a horse they could use to carry supplies, but he wasn't entirely counting on it. It would make things easier if they had one though. 

"Maybe there are some narrowboats down in the docks we could nick. I mean, we're not really going anywhere apart from away from Birmingham, right? So we just need to get away. We could be much more inconspicuous if we had a narrowboat. Proper beds, too. I don't like the thought of sleeping on that concrete," Trevor said.

"I think we're just going to have to get used to this. We'll see what's left in the town once we've had a rest. I think we've got enough blankets though to at least make it somewhat comfortable. It won't be the Hilton, but it's not icy concrete. We'll have to ration the food too. No knowing what we'll find out there. We might have to make it last," Roy said.

Trevor grimaced. "I knew you were gonna say that. I just knew it."

Roy looked at him helplessly. "We don't have any to spare. We've got to be careful with everything. We've only got as much as we can carry. That seriously limits what we can take. We can scavenge as we go, but I doubt the food left will be much good. It's not going to be good eating. Trust me, I'm not looking forward to it either, but what else can we do?" 

Trevor sighed. "I know, I know. It's the right thing to do, I know. But that don't mean I'm going to like it."

"We'll go scavenging in town soon. We might pick up some more supplies there. If we find a boat, though, I think we should take it. I still don't really know where we should go. Bev never said where they were going. If they're sensible, they'll be hiding out somewhere remote," Roy said.

"Is that what the pendulum says? How do you even know it's working properly?" Trevor said.

Roy shot him a look as he got his pendulum out. "It works. Just trust me, alright? Now hand me a map. I'd better get a bearing so I can figure out where we might want to begin looking."

Trevor pulled out the map from his bag and handed it over. It was a small, if somewhat detailed, map of the United Kingdom. It was not in any way useful for road directions, but Roy thought that was probably not really necessary. As long as they were going in the right direction, it didn't matter which route they took. 

Roy lay the map down on the ground, holding down the corners with some small pieces of broken concrete. Taking a moment to get into the right mindset to work with the lodestone, he held it over the centre of the map. 

"Show us where Bev, Carl, and Ace are. Where are they hiding? Which direction do we need to go to find them?" 

It didn't move for a moment before it slowly began swinging back and forth, making a line between them and Land's End. 

"Mark it, Trev. I need that orientation." 

Being careful not to touch the pendulum, Trevor quickly marked out the alignment with a pencil. "Is that south-west, then? Is that where we need to go?" 

"I think so. I can't narrow it down until we move again. Check the compass to get the right orientation. We're going to need to keep checking that as we go. I'll ask the pendulum every day to see if we're getting closer, but they'll be on that line somewhere. We just need to get there," Roy said.

Roy poured over the map as he ate his breakfast. He marked down the major cities he could find, and made a point of circling Bristol. 

"That's cordoned off, that is. We'd do best to avoid that area like the plague. No telling what they'll be doing by the time we get there, though," Roy said.

"Why don't we just take it a day at a time? Keep that alignment, and see what we run into. No point in hurrying. If those wolves have any sense, they'll bloody stay put. Maybe we can hole up with them for a while once we find them. Safety in numbers, that kind of thing," Trevor said.

"Maybe. We'll have to see when we get there," Roy said.

* * *

After about seven hours of not entirely restful sleep, Roy and Trevor ventured out into the town they'd arrived in as dusk was setting. As they rounded a bend in the river, they saw the sky burning. In the distance, it looked like the whole city was on fire. Birmingham was burning, and it looked like nothing had been spared. 

Roy and Trevor found themselves frozen to the spot. It was too unbelievable to look at, too hard to accept. Roy reached for Trevor's hand, swallowing his nerves.

"I never thought it would look this..." 

Roy was lost for words. Trevor nodded mutely. Trevor wrapped an arm around his shoulder and brought him close. In silence, they watched the fire, awed by the way it filled every inch of the horizon. 

Even Brum couldn't believe what he was seeing when he finally caught up with them. He'd woken to find them gone, and went after them. He'd found them standing there, and he wondered what they were looking at. Then he saw that the whole world looked like it was on fire. The world was burning! His home was burning! His home with the museum and the other cars and the children and the nice man who would open the workshop for him. It was all in that fire! 

Brum's wheels wanted to rush into it, but he just could not move. His wheels turned, but his brakes held him firmly in place. The jolt to his body made him shake, and he thought he heard his engine rattle, just a little. He didn't know what to do. He felt sadder than he'd ever felt in his whole life, just seeing that fire and knowing what it meant. Everything had been destroyed. There was no going back now. There was no home to go back to, not now. 

"But, who would do such a thing? Why did they set the world on fire?" Brum asked.

Roy's voice was soft and sad as he spoke. "As a phoenix that rises from the ashes, she will rise again. But she won't be our Birmingham. She's dying in the fire. They'll raze her to the ground and remove any trace she was there at all. They'll build her again, but her spirit is gone. The bull is gone. We're all that's left. They've burnt our homes down, and destroyed everything we ever cared about."

Brum understood what he meant, even if he didn't quite understand all the words he used. He'd never felt so frightened and alone before. As he watched the fire, he could hear Roy crying.

* * *

There was no scavenging that night. Eventually, they left the terrible sight of the fire and returned to the bunker. The lantern cast a terrible shadow over the walls. Even the bull joined them, taking on a softer appearance as he sat down beside them. Roy understood now why the bull was with them. As he reached out to touch him in thanks, the bull materialised and became real. 

"That- that's a real bull. Right? That's not just a hallucination?" Trevor said, gesturing at the huge bull now in the room with them. 

The bull did seem unimaginably bigger, now that it was taking up real solid space. Brum was utterly dwarfed, and felt like if he dared to go near that bull, he would be crushed. 

"It's real, alright," Roy said as he reached out to touch his head. He wasn't sure why he wanted to touch it, but he was using the same logic that had worked for the wolves. They had telepathy, and it worked between wolves very well, but it was only when there was physical contact could they use their telepathy on non-werewolves. Roy hoped this might be the key to communicating with the bull. 

As Roy touched the bull's neck, he felt a strange sensation in his head. He felt like he was in contact with something older than he could ever comprehend. He saw a flash of stars and fire before the bull's eyes stared straight through his soul. He shivered, unsure what to make of the sensation. Then he heard a low deep voice in his head, and it almost floored him. 

_'It has been decided that we will travel together. You have need of a strong bull such as I. I shall bear the load for you. I shall carry all you cannot carry yourselves. I will not weary of it like you will,'_ the bull sent.

Roy wasn't sure how to take the offer, but saw no reason not to accept it. That someone else had decided they would be travelling together hinted that the bull had not just appeared for no good reason. It had been sent to aid them, though he still didn't know who. "I- thank you. Is there anything we can do for you in return?" 

The bull blinked slowly and shook his head. There was no reply. He lay down and closed his eyes, as if he were going to sleep. 

"You managed to talk to it, then?" Trevor said, taking a tentative step towards him.

"Yeah, it's just like the wolves. Touch him, and he'll speak to you. Wanna try?" Roy said.

Trevor shook his head. "No, thanks. I'll leave the spirit work to you. What'd it say, anyway?"

"We're meant to travel together. Said he'd carry some of our gear for us, so we don't have to carry it all ourselves. You wouldn't have me turn that down, would you?" Roy said.

"What do you mean, 'we're meant to travel together'? Someone's fucking with us again, aren't they?" Trevor said, sceptical.

Roy had no answers. "I don't know. Someone decided it. Don't ask me who. I have no idea."

The bull did not seem to react to their conversations. He still looked like he was asleep, taking up half the room as he slept. The bull did not seem hostile to them, though, and Roy tentatively sat down beside him, making his bed as he leant against his massive body. It was the warmest place in the concrete box they were in, and Roy intended to take full advantage of it. Trevor, however, was not so keen. 

"C'mon, it's alright. He doesn't mind. Better than sleeping over there," Roy said.

Trevor wasn't moved. "I'll take my chances away from the large bull, thank you very much." He set up his bed further away, making sure there was a healthy distance between him and the bull. Spirit or not, it was still a bull, and it could easily trample him if he was so inclined.

Roy settled, offering him a smug look. "Well, suit yourself. But I'll be warming myself over here while you freeze over there. I can't take any more of that cold concrete. It's done me bones in."

Trevor didn't care. "It's a matter of not getting up and cosy with a bloody great big bull! I know my limits, and that's it. We don't even know why it's here. We don't know if it's just going to lead us to our deaths. How do you know we can trust it?"

Roy considered him. "I don't know. Someone sent him to us. Maybe it's that bloody dragon. I don't know, alright? I've only got his word, and right now, that's better than nothing. That's all we've got. So unless you want to carry everything yourself, we'd better get used to him being around."

Trevor pointed a finger at him. "You - you and your bloody spirit work. I don't understand any of this. You'd better not be bloody lying to me, Woody."

"I ain't lying, Trev, I swear. I -" Roy paused, deciding not to start an argument with him. "Look, I'll deal with the spirits. You can deal with the scavenging, alright?"

Trevor considered him a moment, before nodding his agreement. "Alright, I'll do that. Just don't keep bugging me about whether I believe it or not, alright? This is your world, not mine, and I don't claim to understand it at all. Just leave me be, alright? If - and I mean, _if_ \- we find the wolves, then maybe ask me again. Until then, I'm calling you out on your bullshit if I have to."

"I expect nothing less from you," Roy said, unconcerned. "You sure you don't want to sleep by the bull? It is warm here, and I can't imagine you'll feel too good after another night on concrete."

Trevor didn't answer. He made a point of getting into his bedroll off beside the wall and settling down to sleep, facing away from them. At least he wouldn't be trampled by a bull in the night, even if the ground was cold and hard. Closing his eyes, he tried to pretend he was back at home, safe and sound, and not sleeping in a sixty year old concrete bunker with Roy, a small yellow car, and a gigantic bull spirit.

* * *

_Slipping quickly into a deep dream, Roy found himself walking along the bank of a river. It took him a moment to realise he was walking into Cardiff, along the Severn. The city looked just as damaged as it had when they'd left a couple of months ago, and his heart sunk at how decrepit the place was. He walked through the silent streets, wondering why he was walking here again. There was no one around, and here and there, he could see fires and smell burning flesh. Bodies were being burnt. If he hadn't encountered that first-hand back in Birmingham, he'd never have realised what it was. He thought that smell, more than anything else, would stay with him til he died._

_He naturally picked his way through the rubble to Cardiff Castle. So much had happened there, and he felt it strange not to go back and visit it, just to make sure it was still in one piece. There was still some damage, but it didn't look as bad as he had feared. Looking down Castle Road towards the bridge, he remembered what the first apocalypse had been like. He had been so much younger then, only twenty-one, and as he walked through the castle grounds, he retraced his steps, from the area where the stage had been to the corridor where Charlie had pulled him to safety while hoards of zombies shuffled past them, chasing the kids who had just come to see a concert. As he stood just outside that corridor, he shivered, remembering just how frightened he had been that night. The bodies that had covered the park ahead of him had not been erased from his memory after all these years._

_"The seer returns," came a voice from behind him._

_Roy turned to find the red dragon standing before him. He didn't look like he had changed at all. He still stood just a little taller than Roy, his wings tucked up against his body. "I couldn't help it. There's just something that keeps calling me here, though I don't know why. Even in my dreams, I can't escape this place."_

_The dragon tilted his head a little. "You are troubled."_

_"Did you send the bull spirit to help us? Only I can't help feeling like someone's watching over us, giving us a hand when we need it. I don't like being a pawn. I'd like to know who's controlling this," Roy said._

_The dragon didn't answer. He seemed to gesture with his head for him to follow, and keen to get some answers, Roy followed him as they walked back to the old Keep situated at the back of the castle grounds. Walking up the steps to the Keep, he wondered if he was actually going to get any answers, or if he'd just be left with riddles. The dragon stopped towards the back, and didn't appear to be paying any attention to Roy. Eventually, the dragon turned to Roy and gestured him to come close. Figuring he had nothing to lose, he approached the dragon, wondering what he wanted._

_"I did not send the bull. I do not know who sent the bull to you. What has it told you?" the dragon asked._

_Roy shrugged. "Not a lot. It said it had been decided that we would travel together. So someone sent it to me, but I don't know who. It feels like it's the spirit of the city of Birmingham, though why it's with us, I don't know. He feels very, very old."_

_"That is consistent with what I know. I believe he is the spirit of the land upon which the city has been built. Why it was sent to you, though, I do not know. Where are you going, anyway? Why are you travelling again?" the dragon said._

_"We're trying to find the werewolves. You remember the ones who were with me last time we met? Those ones. They ran off last full moon without a word, and since it's too dangerous to stay in the city any longer, we decided we'd go after them. But I don't know where to look yet. You don't know where they are, do you? Only that'd save me a helluva lot of guesswork if you did," Roy said._

_"They are in the south somewhere. It smells salty. They are, perhaps, near the sea. But I cannot sense them any more than that. I am sorry I cannot help you further," the dragon said._

_"Yeah, pendulum had pointed me south west. It might take us a while if they're by the sea, though. Lots of places to check down there," Roy said. "Do you think they left us a trail to follow?"_

_The dragon gave him a strange look, as if it was an absurd thing to ask. "I do not know."_

_"Why are you here, anyway? I thought I'd heard the last from you when I left the castle the last time," Roy said._

_"So did I. The fates are troubled, though. They sense danger, but you appear to be the only one who is listening. Perhaps it is the fates who sent you the bull. Do you know how to reach them?" the dragon asked._

_Roy shook his head. "No one's ever shown me how. The cards were always enough."_

_The dragon raised a front claw rested it on Roy's head, pushing him down to his knees. Roy shifted a little to get comfortable as he felt the dragon's claws bite at his scalp. He hoped he wasn't about to be killed. Suddenly, there was a queer feeling in his stomach, and everything went black._

_Darkness turned into a stony tunnel. The dragon was leading him, a lick of fire hovering in his claw lighting the way. The tunnel seemed to go on for some time before it finally opened into a large cavern. Three figures sat around a large black cauldron that was sitting on a blue fire. The light from the fire reflected around the cave eerily, giving off a distinctly otherworldly vibe. The three figures sitting around the cauldron were blindfolded, and they wore long hooded robes that concealed their identities. The dragon made some sort of bow before he approached them, and gestured for Roy to do the same. Roy did his best to follow what he was meant to do and there was a tense moment as he waited for permission to approach._

_"Sit here. You may ask three questions. The fates are under no obligation to answer you if you are not meant to know the answer. I will show you how to get here once we have returned to the castle," the dragon said. He indicated a stone bench that Roy was meant to sit on, and backed off._

_Roy approached reverently as he took his seat. Before he could speak, the middle figure spoke to him._

_"The seer arrives. What is it you wish to know, seer, that you cannot divine for yourself?" the figure asked._

_Roy thought a moment, trying to find the right words. With only three questions, he had to be sure he was precise with his words. He did not want to waste them. He might never get a chance to ask them again._

_"I wish to know who sent the bull spirit to aid us."_

_The middle figure dipped a hand into the cauldron, stirring the liquid with their hand. They lifted a little to their lips and drank. Roy couldn't tell if the liquid was actually black, or if it just looked that way because of the dark light of the cave.  
"The Lady of the Stars watches over you."_

_Roy resisted the urge to ask who that might actually be. It sounded more like a title than a name. He could think of a few ancient goddesses who might be called that, and a few saints as well, but it did not help to narrow it down. If all he would ever know was that she was called the Lady of the Stars, well, maybe that's as good as it would get._

_"Are we undertaking this journey for a bigger purpose than we know right now?"_

_The figure on the left reached a slender pale hand into the cauldron to stir the waters and drink of its wisdom. Roy almost hadn't asked, but he felt he needed to know if he was going to be wandering with his own free will, or if there was a guiding hand involved._

_"Yes."_

_Roy hadn't expected more than that. He knew enough about divination and contacting the fates to know that sometimes, you didn't get to know everything all at once, no matter how much you asked. Knowing he only had one question left, he thought long and hard about what he needed to know right now, and what he could probably divine for himself later on._

_"Are my fears for the future of the British nation justified?"_

_The figure on the right answered this one. Roy watched as they dipped their hand into the cauldron and drank some of the liquid inside. He wondered idly if he would get anything concrete, or just a confirmation that he was right to worry about what was to come._

_"Dark clouds draw near. A long winter is coming."_

_Roy knew what that meant. He shivered, wondering how long the pain and suffering would last, and how bad it would get, before it was over. The three figures held their hands in prayer, and Roy got the sense that their interview was over. He stood and bowed to them again, and backed off._

_He found the dragon waiting by the doorway to lead him back to the castle. Neither spoke until they had returned from the fates. The dragon did not expand upon what was coming, but he did offer some advice, and he showed him how to reach the fates, should be absolutely need to talk to them again._

Roy could not remember all of it once he woke, though he was surprised to find his hands covered in strange black markings. As he looked around the dark bunker, he was the only one awake, and he was glad the markings washed off easily in water. He didn't want to have to explain what was going on. Instead, he returned to the bull's side with his notebook and a pen, and wrote down all he could remember from the dream, including the answers from the fates and what he could remember of the dragon's teachings.

* * *

The next night, Roy felt it might be safe enough to go scavenging. The bull stayed behind to guard the pillbox. Brum was pleased to get out of the dark concrete box, though. It was very small and dark, and he wanted to go out and feel the road beneath his wheels once more. 

Together with Roy and Trevor, they made their way down the river back to the town. On the horizon, Birmingham was still burning, but it looked less terrifying now. Brum still felt scared and sad as he saw it though. He stopped for a minute to look at it again, reminded that he couldn't go home anymore. Roy and Trevor were the only family he had left. 

Roy saw him and came over to him, kneeling beside him. "Don't dwell on it, kid. All that fire means is sadness and sorrow."

"Everything's gone, Roy. It's all gone. It's really all gone, isn't it?" Brum said, not wanting to believe it was true.

Roy nodded sadly. "Yeah, it's all gone. It hurts to think about it. I worry about anyone who didn't get out. But I'm trying not to think about it."

"Don't say that, Roy. Don't say that," Brum said.

Roy touched his bonnet. "Come on, we've got scavenging to do. We won't survive staring at that." 

Brum was reluctant to move, but he knew Roy was right. He'd been suddenly and terribly initiated into the real adult world, and he could no longer pretend things would be back the way they had always been. His old life was now dead. It would never return to him. It was the saddest thought he had ever had. 

"Come on, Brum. We've got to go," Roy urged. "We'll need yer headlamps to light the way. Don't you want to come and be useful?" 

It wasn't comforting, but it was enough to get Brum moving again. Distracted by the task of lighting the way for his friends, he put aside the horrible thoughts he'd had and drove on bravely, making sure his headlamps shone brightly on the road ahead. 

The town itself was utterly abandoned and empty. There were no sounds, and every building looked dark and eerie. Brum didn't really like it, and he wasn't used to going out at night. But he persevered, and making sure his friends could see made him feel useful. 

They went into the shop to see what might be taken. Most of the glass was smashed, and by the look of the mess on the ground, everyone had left in a hurry. It was hard to see anything else in the darkness. Brum's headlamps would only light up so much at a time, and it was slow going as they picked their way through the wreckage. Brum found it hard as there were so many big things in his way. He was only a small car, and it wasn't easy to manoeuvre around them. 

Trevor had grabbed some plastic bags from behind the counter. They were slowly being filled with any non-perishable food left that still looked good. It wouldn't be the most appetising diet imaginable, but they weren't in a position to fret about nutrition. They'd take whatever they could find. 

Someone had left a large sports bag down near the back of the shop, left by someone who didn't care if they left it behind. It didn't contain anything useful bar some rope and a small first aid kit. Clearing the rest out, it became their storage bag. It was easier to carry then, and Brum did a good job in helping them carry everything they'd found. 

The next shop along provided a couple of cooking pans and a knife. They would need to be cleaned, but it would allow them to do more cooking than they could currently manage. Some boxes of matches still wrapped in plastic were also taken.

By the time they'd ransacked every building they could safely access, they had almost more than they could possibly carry, but Roy did feel like they had more than enough food to keep them going for a fortnight at least, if they couldn't find any other supplies. Then again, Roy didn't know how long they could even survive for anyway. The cards didn't want to tell him. All he could do was take one day at a time and hope for the best.

On their way back to the bunker, Brum wondered how long they would stay there. He knew they would be moving on. Roy had said they had to go find the werewolves, and that meant he might not have a proper home for months, if it took that long to track them down. He was beginning to understand that the world was indeed very much larger than he had ever imagined. Confined to driving around the city, he'd never seen much of it beyond the central city streets, and now he'd been all the way to another town and even left the confines of the big city for good. He had never been so far from home. 

Brum helped them pack as best they could once they got back to the pillbox. Roy wanted to get moving before the soldiers had time to realise they were there. Brum didn't want to go so soon, but he knew Roy was right. 

The bull took the weight in silence. Roy had managed to rig up a makeshift harness they could strap their supplies to. It wasn't perfect, and Roy had actually been searching for proper saddle bags, but it would do for now. The tarpaulins they'd found at the garage had proved to be highly useful for this purpose, and would also keep everything as dry as possible as they travelled. 

Making sure there was nothing left behind that hadn't already been there, they set off. Roy, compass, map, and pendulum stashed in his coat pockets, led the way. Brum decided not to take one last look at the city he called home as they began their long journey to find Bev, Ace, and Charlie, their friends and missing werewolves.


	4. Chapter 4

Carl whined softly as the moon set behind the trees. The pangs of transformation were already present, and his body jerked in awkward ways. He did not want this. He very much did not want to transform. But the moon was rapidly disappearing, and soon it would all be over for another month.

He let out a cry of pain as his body began transforming. It was unlike any pain he had the words to describe. It could not be described. His body twisted and shrunk, and the wolf withdrew from him. The wolf had been cruel this time, and Carl found himself forcibly conscious as the wolf transformed back. He lasted all of half a minute before passing out. He didn't see the rest of the transformation.

The next thing he remembered was waking up to find two concerned faces looking down at him. If he hadn't recognised them, he'd have been even more afraid. He reached for them, trying to speak. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Every inch of his body was wracked with pain.

Bev and Ace grabbed an arm each and brought him to his feet, pulling him up from the grass. Carl struggled briefly, but gave in. Bev and Ace exchanged a look as they bundled Carl into the back of the van. Carl curled up in the back, feeling humiliated and afraid. 

He had fallen back into muteness since he'd been released from the permanent wolf transformation. Both he and Bev had been stuck in their werewolf forms since 1967. Only when the zombie dragon had been killed a few months ago had they finally been released from the wolf form. It had been particularly distressing to discover just how little they'd aged. They'd spent the last forty years living as wolves, but they barely looked twenty five years old. Bev was shocked, but not entirely surprised. Carl was horrified, and the first time he'd seen himself in a mirror, he smashed it and ran the hell away from it. Since then, every mirror in the house had been either thrown away, smashed, or hidden away as Carl just could not bear to have them near him.

Bev had coped well enough to being human again, but Carl had struggled. The shock that had come with being human again was too much to cope with, and he was still struggling to adjust. It had taken a month to get used to eating something other than rare cooked meat; his diet was patchy, and vegetables still caused him mild nausea if he had to eat them. His sleeping patterns were completely out of whack, and he spent most of his time trying to pretend it wasn't happening. Being human was too hard. He just didn't understand how to be human anymore. He knew how to be the wolf. He didn't know how to be human, and it was endlessly frustrating and distressing. He wanted to be the wolf again more than anything else in the world, but he knew it wouldn't happen. The spiral of depression he was caught in was beginning to drown him, and unless he could figure out how to speak again, he could not tell his friends what was wrong. His suffering was his alone, and he knew it would consume him one day.

Ace got into the driver's seat. "He's not getting any better, y'know. What are we going to do about him?"

Bev looked over to the back seat. Carl was whining softly again as he tried to curl up like a wolf. "I don't know. I really don't know."

Carl tried to scratch behind his ear with his foot, but his spine just would not bend that way, and he growled, frustrated. Bev watched as he settled into a compromised position that his human body could do without causing him undue pain. Carl's human body did not work properly, and it was utterly distressing in a way he had never anticipated. Every moment spent in a human body was an awful torment. As he lay there on the back seat, he wore a look of abject depression as he sighed and gazed off into the distance. 

Ace looked back at Carl. "It's getting harder to manage him. I know it sounds cruel, but maybe we should just leave him out there one day. Maybe it'd be better if he got killed." 

"You don't mean that," Bev said, glancing over at him. 

Ace sighed. It was true enough. "What are we meant to do with him, though? We've got another four weeks of trying to keep him hidden. It's getting harder to avoid detection. One day, they'll come for us, and they'll haul us off with all the other freaks. Then it won't be our decision what happens to him."

Bev remained silent, thinking about their options. "We know the soldiers are confined to the cities, yeah? As long as we keep to the countryside, we should be safe. If I knew where Roy was, we could probably hole up with him, but he might still be stuck in the camps."

"Those camps are evil. I ain't never going back there. How the hell did they let them happen, hey? Fucking idiots," Ace spat.

"Scared idiots, more likely. I mean, we fought zombies forty years ago, so it wasn't a shock for us. But most of them have no idea what happened. They'll believe the bullshit story about a pandemic because they can't conceive of anything else that makes sense. They'll never know the full scale of what's happened because those camps will keep them confined. There's no independent voice to counter the Government's story, so that's what people believe. Yeah, it's stupid, but what else can we do? They don't know any better, and we can't expect them to, either. They weren't there," Bev said.

"I guess, so," Ace murmured. "I still don't like it."

"I'd brace yourself. I have a bad feeling that this is going to get a lot worse before it gets any better. Hiding out here might be the only thing that saves us," Bev said.

Ace shivered. He didn't like that thought at all. "Alright, let's get out of here. Enough talk of arsehole soldiers. I wanna eat."

* * *

They drove back to a small isolated village, unguarded by soldiers. Tucked away in the middle of farmland near Land's End, it was one of the only safe places left in the whole of the United Kingdom. Sure, the zombies might've started here, but they left quickly because there wasn't much to sustain them, so there wasn't anything that needed cleaning up. With a village available to keep them fed and sheltered, it was better than the Government camps by a long shot.

Ace pulled up outside the house they were living in. It was a moderately sized house, with enough room for them all, and a large garden planted with fruit trees and vegetables. It was also one of the few houses that wasn't badly damaged after the storms. It was safe, for now. It also had the benefit of a decent array of solar panels hooked up to a generator. They had power. They weren't sure anyone else in the entire nation had power. It made living more comfortable than it might've been. The meat the wolves hunted for them stayed fresher, and it lasted longer. Sure, they only had what they could grow, what could be scavenged, and what the wolves could hunt, but it was better than nothing. 

The hardest part was caring for the five dairy cows that had been found at a nearby dairy farm. The prospect of fresh milk was too good to pass up, and they herded the cows to pastures closer to where they were staying. Borrowing equipment from the farm, Ace and Bev had managed to maintain a reasonably good supply of milk, and the cows seemed to be grateful for being taken care of. It might not have been the most demanding job, but it did make them feel like they had something to do other than just hang about waiting for something to happen. It made life feel normal.

Once they got back, Ace and Bev carried Carl inside, leaving him in the front room. There wasn't much to be done with him, not so soon after a transformation. He was too animalistic. It took at least a week for him to calm down long enough to remember he was human. If they were lucky, they got a week of normal behaviour from him before the lunacy took over again. Knowing he was safe, Carl went straight to his favourite chair and curled up. He would probably sleep for the rest of the day. 

It was a strange sight to see a man curled up like a dog, but Ace and Bev had grown used to it. Ever since they'd defeated the dragon, and Carl and Bev had been given their human forms back, Carl had found it almost impossible to cope unless he was in his wolf form. In some ways, Bev wasn't surprised. It had been enough of a shock for him just trying to cope with being human again. Getting used to normal transformations on top of that was harder still, but he had a renewed sense of relief whenever the moon set and he was able to change back. There was nothing he loved more than knowing he was back off a transformation. 

But Carl hadn't coped as well, which is why he was curled up on the chair, whining softly. Bev turned and left him alone. Ace gave him one last look before following him through to the lounge.

* * *

Bev slumped into an armchair as Ace took the sofa beside him. He was still too fresh off a transformation to be able to relax, and if he hadn't been with Ace, he'd have probably done something to take care of the arousal still present in his body. It was always like this, post transformation, and it drove him to frustration. Pleasant frustration, but frustration nonetheless. He had almost forgotten how good it felt, having spent forty years without transformations. Back when he was still transforming regularly, before the first apocalypse, he'd always had Charlie to work off that frustration with. But since he got changed back, losing the permanent wolf form, he'd had to get used to transforming again, and that brought all the frustration it used to bring. Only Charlie wasn't there anymore, and in spite of his frustration, he wasn't about to start with Ace. Well, not unless he wanted it.

"So, exactly how long have you been transforming, anyway?" Bev asked.

Ace sighed as he turned his head to look at him. He thought a moment, trying to remember when it had happened. "A few years, more or less."

"You used to the post-transformation feelings yet? I find it quite pleasant, but I know not every werewolf likes feeling this way," Bev said.

"I will admit, I ain't used to this level of arousal, that's fer sure. Meds used to fucking kill it but now it's worse than when I was a young lad. God. I know you and Charlie would go off and take care of it yerselves, but I ain't been polite enough to ask, and anyway, feels wrong since he's gone all mad, y'know?" Ace shrugged against the cushion. "I usually just take care of it meself. Not so great, but better than nothing."

"Charlie's been no use to me since he went mad. If you ever want a fuck coming off a transformation, just ask. I didn't think you were into guys, so I never bothered to ask you," Bev said. He shifted again, feeling his trousers tighten, even though there was no bulging erection to fill them. It wasn't a secret that he was born a woman, but he still felt a small amount of anxiety at the prospect of showing his naked body to Ace. Still, he wished he'd just come straight out and asked him for a fuck. Maybe things would feel less awkward between them at that moment.

Ace shrugged. "Werewolves are different, I reckon. I'd rather fuck one of you than some random stranger."

"You'd better, then. Be as rough as you bloody like. The harder, the better," Bev said, gesturing him over. 

Ace didn't need to be told twice. The arousal was becoming too strong, and the offer of sex was not one to turn down. Straddling Bev's hips, all he was really aware of was clothes being thrown off and a desperate hardness between his legs. Post-transformation erections were always very satisfying in a way he could never quite manage the rest of the time.

There was no kissing, and no tenderness. Ace got him into position and fucked him until he was exhausted. He was sure he'd come twice for once, which never usually happened when he just did it himself. Lying on top of Bev on the floor, Ace was reluctant to pull away. Every muscle in his body was limp, and a warm sleepiness was closing in on him. Lazily, he thrust a few more times, trying to eke out the last drips of arousal left in him. 

"Feel free to do that next month. My God, you're good," Bev murmured. "Only, not in front unless you want me to get pregnant. Because, trust me, that will happen. I'm always hyper-fertile post-transformations. It's such a pain. I'd really rather not worry about it, but there's nothing I can do about it. And anyway, you don't want to have to look after a mad wolf and a pregnant wolf and my babies. I always have big litters, I've discovered. Six is usual. You do not want me bringing six extra mouths into the world. Not when we're so stretched as it is."

Ace lightly slapped his arm in irritation. "God, way to ruin a mood, Bevan. Fuck. Can't all that shit wait?" 

"Sorry, man, but you need to know that if you want to fuck me again," Bev said.

"Lard'ead," Ace cursed as he pulled out. He sat up beside him, every inch of his body aching. It was only then that he saw Carl sitting over by the wall naked, obviously watching them. "Fuck me. Charlie, you need a fucking bell."

Bev shifted to look back at the wall, and smiled as he saw Carl there. "Come on, you bastard. I know you want what's yours." 

Carl prowled over to them. He gave Ace a snarl and snapped at him as he pushed him away. He didn't want anyone near his mate. Ace sensibly backed off, deciding to gather his clothes and leave them to it.

Carl wouldn't have minded, though. Once he knew Bev was willing, he moved close and mounted him. Bev glanced back, irritated, as Carl positioned himself and pushed inside. Carl was fucking him in front again, and Bev wasn't happy. If he didn't stop it soon, he'd get pregnant again. Pushing him away was hard, though, as Carl had a good grip on him and was making sure his seed dominated over any other potential mates. Bev did understand the behaviour, and he knew the wolf was more in control of Carl's actions than Carl himself was. It didn't mean he was just going to lie back and take it, though.

Before Bev could finally shove him off, Carl finished, thrusting hard as he came inside him. It might not've been what Bev wanted, but at least it had been over quickly. He'd just have to try that feverfew and ginger tea his mother once told him about to see if it would work to rid him of pregnancy. It might not be pleasant, but it would be better than being a father again.

"Do you have to get me pregnant every time someone else fucks me? He's no threat to you, you know." 

Carl growled and nipped at his neck. "Mine. Not his. _Mine._ "

"I know that. Think I'm stupid enough to let him get me pregnant? Why would I even want to be pregnant now? I don't want to be taking care of pups right now. I've done enough of that for a lifetime," Bev said, pushing him off.

Carl looked hurt, not understanding why his mate did not want to, well, mate with him. He sat back and cocked his head, unsure what to do. "Mine."

"And we've been over this. No fucking in front after transformations. It's my body, Charlie, and I don't wanna be pregnant right now. So you'll excuse me if I abort this one," Bev said.

Carl lowered his head. He did understand, but it didn't mean he wouldn't like it. Apologetically, he moved over to him and nuzzled his neck affectionately. Bev let him be close, and he did his best to comfort him. He felt Carl needed comforting more than he did, though he'd never have said so.

After one final confirmation that Bev would always be his, and he'd never bear Ace's pups, Carl was satisfied, and he left him to go back to his chair. 

Finally able to relax, Bev gathered his clothes and dressed. At least everyone would be happier now that they'd worked off the residual arousal that was always there post-transformation. Perhaps now they could get on with being normal human beings again.

* * *

"It's getting harder. We've got to do something. I'm worried about him. Like, genuinely worried there's something wrong with his brain, and he'll never get better. What can we even do? Isn't there anything we can do to help him?" Ace said.

Bev had found Ace in the kitchen, just putting the kettle on to boil. "I don't know. I've asked my wolf if there's anything in the Lore about it, but she's found nothing. She said it's sometimes what happens with the curse, for lone wolves in particular. I'm not sure how to heal the rift between the two. Because that's what's at the heart of it. Charlie's wolf is trying to kill him, or possibly send him mad. I'm not sure which would be kinder at this point in time. And, yeah, after being in charge for forty years, I'd be a bit bitter too if that was taken away from me." He sighed. "I'll have another go at trying to talk to my wolf again, see if she can't figure out a way to contact his wolf. I know he's part of the hive mind, because you bloody are, and you're just like him. He can't hide from us there."

"Hmm, I do remember that. Weird, though, that shared consciousness thing. My wolf likes sharing it with me, but I knew what I was getting into when I did it, and perhaps it was different that I was a willing host or something. I dunno. All I know is that I ain't had any of the shit he's had," Ace said.

Bev shrugged. "Charlie's different, though. We've been running together for decades. I sired him. I didn't mean to, but by the time I'd scratched him, it was too late, and it was years before I realised what I'd done. But it was always worse for him. His wolf's always been aggressive towards him. I've rarely seen wolves like him. You do know Charlie's horribly traumatised, yeah? Cos he's been like this for decades. Only he was happier as the wolf. Maybe we shouldn't turn him again. Maybe there's a spell or something we could use. If a zombie dragon could do it, I'm sure we could. There's got to be something in the Lore somewhere."

"Well, you'd find it if there is anything to find. You know the Lore better than either of us do," Ace said. "I'm not going to end up like that, am I? If I start doing that, you got my permission to break me bloody neck." 

Bev shot him a look. "Your wolf's alright, though, isn't he? You don't get half the nightmares he does, I bet." 

Ace shook his head. "No, I don't. But then I do remember asking the wolf to be friends as soon as I felt him inside me. I wanted to do this to help you guys, so I could help Charlie. I don't know. Maybe he didn't see me as an enemy, but we don't fight, not like that."

"Yes, I've been meaning to ask you how you got cursed in the first place. Trevor wouldn't tell me," Bev said.

Ace shrugged, nonchalant. "Charlie done it. I mean, he was about to kill me, but I said he needed help. He needed someone to take care of him. Cos you weren't around then. You'd gone home or something. So it was just me, Trev, and Charlie. And I dunno. His wolf just stared at me, as if he couldn't comprehend anyone wanting to help him. I said he needed a companion, so he didn't have to transform alone." 

"Congratulations for getting away with just a curse. I'd have expected him to have killed you at the mere suggestion he was weak enough to need help from a human being," Bev said.

"But - no, see, I thought that too. I was shit scared he was about to kill me. He had me cornered, and I'm face to face with Charlie the werewolf, and he just growls at me, and his eyes are just so shit scared too, and then all I remember is the pain tearing across my leg, and then I'm in Trevor's arms, and Charlie's fled. It's all a bit of a haze after that," Ace said.

Bev gave him a quizzical look. " _Charlie_ was shit scared? _Charlie the werewolf_ was shit scared? Well, now I have seen everything." 

Ace shrugged. "Can't you see it? Why do you think he's like that anyway? Shit scared, I tell you. Probably schizo, or close to it, if he hasn't quite leapt over the edge yet. Saw enough of 'em over the years to know how to pick 'em. I'm a walking DSM." 

Bev looked at him, confused, as the kettle flicked off. "Then what do you propose we do about him, then? There's no NHS. There aren't any doctors. There are no systems left. We're stuck with him, unless you got a better idea."

Ace frowned, puzzled. There was a fragment of an idea on the edge of his consciousness, but he didn't quite have the words for it yet. It was an impression, an emotion or a suggestion, and it was just out of his reach. Lost in thought, he didn't notice Bev making the coffee. Ace didn't notice him leaving him alone in the kitchen, staring out at the back garden. 

"I'm sure there's a way, 'm sure of it," Ace murmured. "There's just got to be a way to fix him."

* * *

"So how are you then?" 

Ace shrugged at the question. "As good as I usually am. Why?"

Ace and Bev were walking back from milking the cows. They had managed a pail and a half of milk this time, and they were carrying it back to the house for processing. They'd managed to find a large enough freezer to keep their stocks of milk in, so that they didn't end up with spoilt milk. Any spare meat was also kept in a separate part of it, as the wolves tended to bring back large animals that took a while for them to get through. Knowing it was all there, though, did give them the sense that they wouldn't starve. They were not surviving day to day on what they could scavenge. They were preparing for winter, when they might not be able to get as much as they currently were able to collect. 

It had been a few days since their last transformation, and Carl was slowly beginning to settle down. He was still prowling around though, and still snarled at Ace anytime he was near Bev, but Ace had learnt not to take it personally. Ace was still trying to figure out what to do with Carl, and wasn't getting very far. Bev's question made him forget about Carl's state of mind, just for a while. He was surprised he'd even asked. He normally didn't think about it. He had Carl to worry about, and anyway, he felt he was fine. That didn't mean he was particularly interested in talking about it, though.

"I feel like it's not my place to interfere, but Trev did tell me about you. What you've been going through over the years. I just don't want you to feel you have to hold things together because of Charlie. I want to make sure you're alright too," Bev said.

Ace shrugged. He didn't particularly like that Trevor had discussed it without his consent, but at least it wasn't a secret anymore. "It's alright, for the most part. Ran out of meds some time back, but the wolf seems to be doing his best to keep things in control. Dunno how he's doing it, but I don't feel any different. No withdrawal or anything. Weird. Why'd he tell you anyway?"

"I can't even remember how it came up, but I think it might've been just after you got cursed. I think he was worried about how you'd cope with it. He didn't want to see you going mad like Charlie. I was worried too, y'know. You were always fragile, and the curse is such a terrible burden for a lone wolf. I didn't want to lose you to it like I've lost plenty of other mates," Bev said.

Ace felt a strange sense of gratitude, though he didn't think he really deserved it. "Uh, thanks. It is hard to get used to, but I'm doing alright. I'm not fighting with the wolf like Charlie is. I think that helps. Maybe that's why he's keeping everything under control. I didn't even think you'd noticed that, that I'd had problems."

Bev shrugged. "I knew something was wrong with you, but didn't want to assume anything. If it was ever important for me to know, you'd probably tell me. Until then, I'd just keep an eye on you. He didn't tell me anything specific, by the way. He just wanted me to know you might be vulnerable to the curse in a way I wasn't. He didn't think it was his place to tell me about that without your permission."

Ace looked surprised. "Oh, so he didn't tell you about-? Oh, right. I never told him he couldn't, y'know. I'm surprised he didn't. I mean, I'm manic-depressive, yeah? I wouldn't be surprised if there were other things in there too now, what with living through two zombie apocalypses an' all. That's gotta have done some damage, even if I can't feel it right now. But that bipolar done the most damage anyway. God knows I've been in such a mess because of it. I didn't even think about how the curse might affect it. All I cared about was Charlie. Like I said, I knew he wasn't well. Borderline schizo if you ask me, but I doubt that even matters anymore. I was doing fine. He wasn't. I figured he could do with someone who knows what that kind of illness is like. Sometimes, all you need is someone who's been there before and come out the other side. I mean, I ain't never had half the problems he's had. I ain't had that much psychosis like ever. But I know it when I see it now. An' I seen it in him."

Bev was distinctly troubled by that. Ace was voicing things he'd thought, but had no words for. It did not bring him any comfort. "So what do we do with him then?"

Ace shrugged, helpless. "Dunno. I still don't think this is just his 'ead gone wrong. That wolf is causing it, and until we've sorted that out, that's how he's gonna be, I reckon. An' don't you worry about me. I'm fine. Wolf's taking care of that for me now. You'll be the first to know if anything changes. Charlie's the one we need to worry about."

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Ace was not particularly comfortable talking about those things in too much detail. He didn't want to scare Bev if he made it seem like he was unhinged like Carl was, not when he felt alright. He did have occasional bouts of depression, but Ace felt the wolf was tempering that, holding back as much of the damage from his trauma as he could to keep Ace functioning. He was secretly grateful for that. 

The rest of the task was done in silence, too. He kept noticing Bev glancing over at him, as if he was suddenly paying more attention to him than before. He would've said something, but he decided it might be better to let it slide. He didn't need to be fighting with Bev if he could help it, even if it meant he'd have to put up with Bev being more attentive to his mental state than he was used to dealing with. He just hoped Bev would back off if he ever felt he was getting too close. Ace didn't like being mothered. He'd survived this long because he'd learnt to take care of himself. He just needed Bev to trust him. 

Ace stayed out in the garden once they were done. He wanted some peace and some time alone. He could hear Bev yelling at Carl again; from what he'd gathered, Carl had been making a mess of things, and Bev was getting frustrated with him. Ace just took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. He didn't know how to make the stress in his body go away completely, but he did the best he could. Just a moment of peace, that's all he really wanted. He wasn't sure he'd ever find one of those again as he heard Carl dash out of the house to the shed, Bev running after him, trying to get him to come back. Ace closed his eyes as he sat down under a tree and tried to make it all go away, just for a moment.

* * *

Trevor, Roy, Brum, and the bull had been travelling for over two weeks now. Brum thought they'd be further along than they were, but they didn't really travel fast, mostly because Brum couldn't keep up if they went too fast. For much of that time, they'd only been travelling at night to avoid being seen, but now that they were further away from the big cities, Roy thought it might be safe to begin travelling during the day. Brum did like that better. He wasn't so frightened of all the strange noises he could hear as they crept along in the darkness. Daylight did increase their speed, but not by much. 

The journey wasn't being planned with any real care. It was not because Roy was careless or inconsiderate of their destination; Roy checked how close they were to the wolves every time they stopped, and made sure they kept on the right bearing. The haphazard nature of the journey was mostly due to not really knowing where they were going, except that they had to keep the bearing. If local maps could be found in whichever town they were in, they would be used to determine the route for the next few days. Otherwise, they would keep walking, following the roads until they found somewhere to stay. It was not ideal, and it did make the journey slow, but Brum felt he preferred slow to a speedy journey. It was hard travelling over grass and paddocks. His wheels were not suited to it, and once, when faced with a proper muddy mess, Brum found himself strapped to the back of the bull and carried safely across.

Brum loved watching Roy pick out their next route with the pendulum. He was always fascinated by how he did this. Holding what looked like a strangely-shaped dark shiny stone attached to a thin wiry string over a map, Roy would hold it steady as he asked it where the werewolves were. Obviously it knew which werewolves Roy meant, as it always answered him. Roy had explained that it swung back and forth in the right direction. If they kept that bearing, they'd find them eventually. It would spin around in a circle if they were nearby.

Brum didn't understand how it worked. It seemed to be just a stone on a piece of string, but Roy said otherwise. Brum didn't know what a lodestone was either. The world he was now in was far greater, and much more complicated, than he had ever imagined. He was seeing so much more of the world, and in spite of what had happened, he was glad they were alone. He didn't want to see anyone. Seeing people might become scary. Brum had no idea who he could trust anymore, apart from Roy and Trevor and the rest of his friends.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon by the time they made it into a town called Banbury. Like every other town they'd been at since they left Birmingham, it was abandoned. Brum was used to it, though it didn't make it any less creepy. They made their way down the main street, looking for anything worth salvaging. Then they looked for somewhere safe to stay for the night. It had been quite a surprise to discover that, for the most part, they could always find a few houses that remained undamaged, and were safe to stay in. If they were lucky, they had a generator. It didn't do much but give them light and allow them to boil water for drinking and for sterilising anything they'd picked up along the way, but it was better than nothing. 

They didn't find much in Banbury, though, to be fair, they didn't need it. They were still living off non-perishable foods, which meant they had the largest collection of canned food they'd ever seen. They had everything from baked beans to spaghetti to canned corn and Spam, as well as potatoes, asparagus, tomatoes, several kinds of fruit, and some mushrooms. It wasn't the greatest diet imaginable, and both Roy and Trevor were already tired of it, but they both knew they weren't in a position to complain. Food was food, even if it was in a can. It was usually the only safe food they could scavenge. Anything perishable had gone off, or was contaminated. Any safe water was hoarded to keep them going, as well as anything else that was still drinkable. 

The one thing Banbury did offer was a cart. Trevor and Brum had found it outside the local tavern, and it would greatly increase the amount of supplies they could carry. While it wasn't designed for people to travel in, they could still use it that way if they needed to. Brum helped Trevor pull it back to the house they'd decided to stay in. They found Roy going through their food supplies, while the bull grazed contentedly nearby. 

"Hey, Roy, look what we found!" Trevor called as they approached.

Roy looked amazed as he watched Trevor and Brum pull the cart up. It was made of wood, but it didn't look broken at all. The wheels looked solid, and Roy suspected they wouldn't be that hard to replace if they stuck to rural towns. 

"Where on earth did you find that?" Roy said, coming up to inspect it.

"By the pub. They didn't have drinks, but they did have a cart. I thought it might come in handy," Trevor said.

"You do know it doesn't have any tack with it, yeah? How are we going to rig up that bull without proper tack?" Roy said.

Trevor shot him an irritated look. "That'd be bloody right. I find a bloody cart, and you find fault. If you care so much, you go back and look for tack. I wanna drink, and a feed, and a bloody good sleep. Fetch me some vittles, Woody."

Roy scowled and turned away from him. "Get yer own vittles, Trev. I ain't yer wife." 

Brum didn't like that they were fighting, but knew better than to get involved. He stayed by Trevor as he watched Roy walk off to the bull. Brum had noticed that Roy and Trevor hadn't been as friendly as he was used to them being, and it bothered him. Perhaps the long journey was proving more of a strain on their relationship than Brum realised. He wondered why it happened at all.

"Is he going to be alright?" Brum asked.

Trevor glanced after him before he went back to the food. "Yeah, with time, probably. Don't take it personally. He just gets like this when he has to leave home. I suspect he'll be like this until we get to the wolves, and we can settle down for a while. This is a hard way to live. Leaving our home for what seems like forever is hard. It's all just horrible right now." 

"So how far will we have to go to find the wolves, anyway? It seems like they're so very far away, and we've barely gone far at all. Maybe it'll take a year to find them," Brum said.

Trevor shrugged. "I'd give it six months. He's not exactly using a precise guiding system. That pendulum just gives us a bearing. Doesn't say where or how long it'll be til we find 'em. But at least we're keeping busy. I'd hate for him to be stuck back at home again. He goes daft when he's got nothing to do." 

"Do you think the bull will pull the cart, though? I mean, he's not just a bull we found along the way. He's a spirit, right? So he could say no. Then we'd have to leave it behind," Brum said.

"Why don't you go over and ask him, then? Maybe he'll say yes. It would make life easier for us, and I'm sure it'd be better than having all our stuff tied down to his body all the time. That must get painful," Trevor said.

Brum thought it must indeed get painful, and with Trevor's encouragement, he went over to the bull. Roy had disappeared, perhaps round the back. The bull was alone. Brum didn't know how to talk to it, but thought he'd try anyway. 

"Mr Bull, excuse me, but we found a cart in town. We were wondering if you'd agree to pull it? Trevor said it would make it easier for you, to have everything in the cart and not tied to you. Would you pull the cart, Mr Bull?" Brum said.

The bull slowly turned his huge head to look at him. It considered him, slowly blinked, and returned to its grazing. Brum didn't know what to do. He didn't know what kind of answer that was. The bull moved away from him, but Brum decided not to follow. He might get trampled by such a large animal!

Brum tried not to look too glum as he returned to Trevor. "I don't know what he said. He just looked at me. Maybe he doesn't like me."

Trevor looked up from his can of cold baked beans. "I'm sure he does like you. He just doesn't talk much. He's protecting us, not here to be our friend. I don't think it's personal. I mean, he doesn't have anywhere to go back to either."

"Oh, yes, I didn't think of that. He lost his home too, didn't he? When the city burnt..." 

Brum was silent. He could still see the burning flames on the horizon. He didn't know how to forget them. He was glad he didn't see it up close, or he might have even worse images in his head. It had been so long since he'd been home, and now there was nothing left to go home to. Everything had been destroyed. He was now properly homeless in a way he hadn't even realised until that moment. Sad and dismayed, he lowered his headlamps, his winder swayed slowly, and his wipers seemed to dip miserably as he settled back beside Trevor. He drove back until he hit the wall of the house behind him, trying to physically get away from the visions he was seeing in his mind. 

Trevor patted his bonnet affectionately. "It's awful, isn't it? Thinking about what happened. You're seeing the flames, too, aren't you?" 

"Yes, yes I am," Brum murmured. "It ... it makes me feel sad."

"Of course it does. Losing yer home does that to someone. I'm just glad we're out here and not stuck in one of those camps," Trevor said.

"Because that would be bad, right? You said before, that the camps were bad, didn't you? Why are they bad? They didn't seem so bad when I went in one, looking for you and Roy," Brum said.

"That's because you weren't seeing them with the eyes you do now. All you saw was adventure. You didn't see the pain and hurt on people's faces. You didn't see how they were suffering. That's why we left. We stayed there all of about three days, Bev, Carl and Ace too, before Roy couldn't bear it anymore and snuck out. The soldiers did come looking for us, but they didn't look for very long, or very hard. We were hiding out the back shed when we heard 'em come crashing through the front door. But that was about as much effort as they went to. Perhaps they were willing to sacrifice us to the wilderness," Trevor said.

Brum didn't like the sound of that. But he did know Trevor was right. Brum hadn't really been looking properly when he'd gone through the camp. That was before he saw the city burning. That was before he had realised he had no home to go back to, not now. Everything he ever cared about had been destroyed. There was nothing left. 

"I'm not sure I like these soldiers anymore," Brum decided. 

"That's the spirit, lad. They're bastards, the lot of 'em. Don't ever trust 'em. You can't trust 'em with anything. They're not on our side anymore," Trevor said.

Brum didn't like the implication of that. The soldiers he had met had been helpful, but perhaps he had just not picked up on what they were really like. He was only a small car, after all. He didn't know as much as Roy or Trevor did about these things. 

Brum felt all tied up inside, like his engine had tied itself all up in knots. Twisting agony and sadness filled him, and he didn't know what to do with it, or how to express it. Ever since the apocalypse, he'd experienced feelings and emotions he had never felt before, and had no capacity to express completely. He had no idea how to cope with them, because whenever he'd tried to get Roy or Trevor to help him out, they didn't seem to understand how to help him. 

After a while, Brum left Trevor's side and drove off around town. He liked isolation because it helped him think, and driving around helped him think about what he'd been through. He didn't often find any answers, but he liked the chance to think nonetheless. He drove around Banbury, making up stories about the people who might've lived there once upon a time, to keep himself from seeing the city burning. 

It worked until he came to a halt in front of a street of houses damaged by fire. It just brought it all back. He froze, his engine unwilling to run, his wheels unable to take him anywhere, as anger, fear, and helplessness tore their way through him. He turned his headlamps off, and slumped, as much as he could possibly slump, miserable and alone. As the fire came to life again in his mind, his body shook, and he heard screaming and the crackling of fire. He didn't know how to make it stop, and it took a supreme effort to force his engine to shut off completely, taking the potency out of the visions as he forced himself to shut down and sleep. 

Trevor found him later that evening when he'd gone looking for him. Together with Roy, they carried him back to the house they were staying in, and left him to rest, hoping he'd be alright when he woke. Trevor slept beside him, not wanting the little car to feel like he was alone. He couldn't imagine how he was coping. Trevor didn't think he was coping very well, either; he'd just been picking fights with Roy all the time, and it had not helped. Sometimes, in the cold dark of the night, Roy and Trevor did talk about what they'd been through, but the fire still raged in his mind, and sometimes, just once or twice, Trevor had found himself unable to sleep, kept awake by the utter paralysing sadness that had come from seeing his home burnt down, knowing he and Roy were probably the only free people left in the entire country. He would lie there, staring up at the ceiling, or the sky, unable to stop crying. Three o'clock in the morning was the loneliest time of night, when the ever-oppressive darkness closed in and threatened to suffocate him. Sometimes, Trevor wished it would, if it meant he'd get some peace.

* * *

_Roy did not appreciate the red dragon's reappearance in his dreams. This was the third night in a row, and the red dragon had decided Roy was not allowed to just dream him away again. The red dragon persisted, and finally, Roy stopped trying to push it away, figuring there might be something important going on if he couldn't shake it. Stopping on the docks of some seaside town Roy didn't recognise, he turned to face the dragon._

_"Alright, what is it this time? Haven't you bothered me enough lately?" Roy said, glaring at the red dragon before him._

_The red dragon straightened, but did not otherwise move. "Things have changed since we last met. You are needed to act again. The fates are seeing dark times ahead."_

_Roy did not look pleased. "I thought it might be something like that. What do you expect me to do about it? Why can't you go bother someone younger than me? I'm tired of trying to save the world and getting fuck all in return."_

_"The voice of reason must not be silenced," the red dragon said._

_"Why does it have to be my voice, though? I ain't no hero. I'm too much of a coward to stand up to them," Roy said. "I run away, alright? That's what I do when things get dangerous. If you're looking for someone to take them on, you're looking at the wrong person. I don't have the heart for it anymore. I just want to find somewhere safe to live out the rest of my days in peace."_

_The red dragon narrowed his eyes. "You would give up, in spite of your fears? I thought you were better than that."_

_Roy shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah? Well, you thought wrong, alright? I ain't a hero. I'm just an old bloody coward who's tired of fighting. You can't fight against an oppressive state like that, not on yer own. They'd destroy me before I could speak out. I'm just not brave enough. Find someone else, someone who's more likely to succeed. Now, go away and stop bothering me in my dreams, alright? I'm tired of this. I just want to rest. Find someone else to fight your battles for you. It's not going to be me."_

_The red dragon glared at him a moment, before turning and walking away. Roy watched him go with a wary gaze, not certain that would be the end of it. He wished he had more courage, but he knew how it would go. He'd speak out, they'd come and get him, and then they'd break him until he'd entered into some sort of delirium where everything they told him made perfect sense. He'd end up just like everyone else, except with more visible scars and a fractured, traumatised mind. No, he did not want that at all. The sooner he was away from them, the better._


	5. Chapter 5

The only exciting thing about Hungerford was that it was, Trevor decided, the place to stay for at least a month. They'd been travelling almost constantly for two weeks since they'd left Banbury, only stopping overnight to sleep if they could help it. But Trevor put an end to that when they hit Hungerford. He refused to go any further until they'd had a proper rest. 

Brum, too, was feeling tired from the journey. His battery, strangely, still felt as full as it ever did, but his wheels hurt and he was sure they were being worn down through all the travelling he was doing. There was no nice museum man to change his tyres when they wore out, and he was pleased to finally get a chance to rest. 

Roy didn't exactly agree to stop, but he did grudgingly go along with it anyway. He'd barely spoken to Trevor for several days now, except where necessary. Brum was worried, but Trevor told him to let him be. Roy left them as soon as they stopped, heading off to find his own place to sleep, or so he said.

Brum tried not to look glum as Trevor pitched up in a house nearby. There was some damage to the town towards the outskirts, but here in the main street, things seemed to be in better condition. Leaving his things in the house, Trevor went exploring across the road where the pub was. Brum had declined the chance to go exploring, feeling too tired to go driving around. He found a good spot to sleep and happily let himself rest.

The pub was in better condition than Trevor expected. It did not seem to have taken any damage at all. Trevor suspected that might've been because they'd tidied up the pub the night before the storm hit, making it look like no one had been in here for a long time. Indeed, it didn't look like anyone had been in here since the apocalypse either, though someone must have been there at some point because the pub's generator was still running, as if it had been left on by someone who had been there before them. Trevor assumed that meant there might be a few rooms upstairs that might have been used. He made a note to check once he was done downstairs.

Finding a crate of ale in the storeroom, Trevor delighted in throwing some of them in a fridge to cool down. The chance to have a drink that wasn't boiled water, or whatever else they could find that was safe to drink, wasn't one he was willing to give up. The bar was still well-stocked, though upon inspection, he found a couple of bottles of whiskey had been nicked, the first sign he'd seen of someone else being there. He thought he might nick a bottle himself. If all else failed, it might do to make fire with if they had absolutely nothing else. 

The pub felt quite eerie, being devoid of people and, well, mess. There was no noise except the low hum of the generator. Occasionally, lights would flicker on and off, independent of the generator, which Trevor took as a good sign that someone, somewhere, was at least trying to restore the national grid. 

He was more interested in the kitchens, though. They were still in good condition, and it looked like there was plenty of equipment that would come in handy. There was also plenty of food in the fridge and freezer, kept fresh by the generator's power. Trevor thanked whichever Higher Being was watching over them for providing them with such a lucky find. Raiding the kitchens, and the vegetable gardens out the back, Trevor made a point of cooking a proper meal, which he ate with absolute pleasure with a cold pint of beer. He also raided the chicken coop, delighted to find that not only were they in good condition, they were also laying eggs. Fresh eggs, by the look of them, too. He made a mental note to stop in every bloody pub from now on, if things were going to get better from here on in.

Once he'd eaten, he went upstairs, and discovered to his delight, that there were four en suite rooms, as well as clean, hot, running water. He almost couldn't believe it. It was as if someone had maintained this one place for them, just so they could have a place to stay with clean water and good food and nice, warm beds. Heading downstairs, he grabbed something for Roy from the bar, hoping he might finally be able to beat out a truce between them, given the luxury he'd found waiting for them across the road.

* * *

It didn't take long to find the house Roy had commandeered for himself. It was only a few houses away from the one Trevor had picked. Seeing him inside, Trevor went over to him, hoping he could talk him round.

"Found you some vodka, Woody. Shall we call a truce?" 

Roy turned to see Trevor standing there offering a bottle of vodka. Recognising the offer for what it was, he gestured him in. "Yeah, let's call a truce, for now."

Trevor handed it to him as he sat down beside him. Roy had been pouring over the maps again, the pendulum lying beside them. 

"Sorry," Trevor said. "It's all this walking. There's just no end in sight. I feel like we'd get to Land's End and that bloody pendulum would still be telling us to go further. Can we take a break for a while? It's not going to hurt if we rest here a week, surely. Besides, the pub's got a generator, and fresh water. I daresay we could live relatively happily there for a while. Have a decent bath and all, that would be a luxury."

Roy gazed down at the maps. He still felt an urge to keep walking, but the last decent rest they'd had was more than two weeks ago. Maybe they needed a proper rest to recharge. God knows his feet hurt like hell. "You've been cooking. I can smell it on you," he said, offering a slight smile.

Trevor grinned. "Veggie patch and all. I had a great meal. Beats eating out of bloody tin cans, that's for sure. Come on, you don't want to stay here. Pub's got good beds, hot water, and I think the grid's coming back."

Roy raised an eyebrow. "They've already got the grid working? How?"

Trevor shrugged. "Dunno. It's not constant like it used to be, but man, it's there. Every now and then it flickers for a while. And like I said, we got clean water. It's not everything, but it's better than nothing. I suggest we check out every pub from now on. It might be more comfortable than we're used to."

Roy gathered up the maps and slipped the pendulum back into his pocket. "You had me at clean water."

* * *

Roy leant over a bench as he watched Trevor cooking a meal for him. Trevor had shown him around the pub, and he was suitably impressed. They had plenty of food, a warm, dry place to sleep, and plenty of alcohol. The pub would keep them well-fed for a very long time, and Roy was almost convinced staying a month wouldn't be such a bad idea, after all. 

"I hope that's a proper English breakfast. God, if that's one of the things I've missed the most, with all that walking," Roy said.

"Someone's taking care of the chickens out the back, so maybe there's someone around after all. That's how I got the eggs. I've got everything but the mushrooms. Couldn't find any. You'd better not complain about that, or I'll go make yer bloody salad," Trevor said. 

Roy shook his head. "No mushrooms is better than no bloody bacon. And I'm pleased you've got eggs, too. I would've told you not to bother if there were no eggs."

Trevor smirked. "Thought you'd see it my way." 

"So what do we have here, anyway? I'd kill for anything not in a tin, to be honest." 

Trevor shot him a curious look. "Even salad? I mean, there's a good veggie garden out the back an' all. Salad is definitely possible."

Roy sighed. "It's not in a tin. It counts. Fresh vegetables! What luxury!"

"I'll mark this day down as the day Roy Wood embraced the salad. It's amazing what a month of tinned food will do to your appetite, hey?" Trevor said.

Roy brushed him off. "Yeah, yeah, just leave it, will you?"

Trevor offered a smug grin as he served up. "I just hope it's up to scratch, sir."

Roy could hardly believe he was looking at a proper cooked meal, accepting it gratefully. "It's got to be better than anything we've been eating."

"That's what I thought. Come on, let's go sit down. My feet are aching," Trevor said.

Roy was glad to do so. Trevor grabbed another beer as they sat down in a corner of the pub to eat. Comfy chairs were ideal, and Trevor sat back, making himself eminently comfortable. His whole body ached, and he was glad to stop at last. 

"Tell me again, who's bloody idea was it to go bloody walking again? Cos I don't think it was mine," Trevor said.

"We've got to find the wolves. That's all I care about right now," Roy said between tucking into his meal.

"Just so we know they're safe?" 

Roy nodded. "I'd wager it's a bad time to be not human out there. If they've got any sense, they'll be lying low somewhere."

Trevor thought that was probably the case. Ace, Carl, and Bev were, on the whole, sensible enough to think that was a good idea. "I hope Charlie's alright. He wasn't too good last time I saw him. He wasn't coping too well being human again. I hope he's settled so Ace and Bev have some peace."

Roy shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not well-versed in werewolves and their trauma recovery process."

"Hmm." Trevor sat back, gazing off into the distance. 

There was silence between them, but neither seemed to mind. They were grateful for each other's company, now that they had a good meal in them and knew they had somewhere safe to stay for a while. 

"D'you reckon Brum's gonna be alright? Only he seems to be quieter than usual," Trevor said some time later.

Roy set his now-empty plate aside and sat back, thinking. "Do you think maybe we should've explained a few things to him? Only I didn't want him being, y'know, like us."

"He's already traumatised. He saw the city burn. He's got no home left, just like us. I think he might need us to talk him through it. I don't think he really knows what to make of it all," Trevor said. "I think you should do it, too. You got a better way of explaining these sort of things to kids than I do." 

Roy sighed. He did know that was true. Still, it wasn't a task he would be looking forward to. He didn't even claim to know all the answers, but perhaps Trevor was right. Maybe it was time to talk to Brum and maybe help him process the sort of things no little car should ever have to deal with. 

"I'll go talk to him later. You haven't found him any new wheels, have you? Only even I've noticed their wear. This place is big enough that we might find some lying around somewhere if we look hard enough."

"I'll look later when I don't feel like death, alright? Just lemme rest a while, yeah?" Trevor said.

Roy took a last swig of vodka. "Right. Show me where the hot water is. I want to soak for a very long time." 

Trevor was happy to oblige. They headed upstairs where the bedrooms were. Each had an en suite, and Roy claimed the first one they came to. After proving it did have hot water, Trevor left him to it.

* * *

Ace could not turn his mind from the problem of what to do with Carl. For days, the issue weighed heavily on his mind. He'd only become a werewolf so he could help Charlie, and he was clearly asking for help right now, but Ace didn't know what to do. Nothing he could think of might help. Not unless- 

The idea his wolf had fed him sounded preposterous. But it made more sense than any other idea he'd had. Perhaps it was worth a look, just to see if it might be the thing that helps bring Charlie back. Determined, Ace went to the front room where he found Charlie in his usual place. 

As he slept curled up on his favourite chair, Ace sat in front of him, staring at him. He wasn't actually staring at him, though, but that was where his gaze was turned as he sat there, preparing to shift down into trance, or as close to it as he could get. 

The relationship with his wolf was such that it would occasionally assist him to gain access to the shared werewolf consciousness and contact any wolf he could find. It was a place on the astral realm known as the Lore, and every living werewolf existed there. Werewolves who had passed on resided in a different domain, known as the Homelands, and it was harder to access that. Reaching out a hand to touch Carl's arm to anchor the two of them together, he closed his eyes, and asked the wolf inside him to take him to the Lore. 

_It was a strange place. It always felt strange to travel there. Everything faded, and then he saw before him a snowy field with conifers and rugged rocky outcrops. It always looked like this, every time he went to it, even though there were wolves here from all manner of places and climates. More than once, he'd had conversations with wolves that had come from much warmer climes who hated the bitter cold. It didn't seem to matter, though. This frozen tundra was what the Lore was, and there was nothing he could do about it._

_As he stepped forward, he heard a wolf howl. He looked down and saw he was still in human form, but he had the mark of his wolf around his neck on a thread of leather, identifying him as a werewolf. He wasn't surprised by this. It was how he always appeared when he went to the Lore. He still had no idea why. No one else went to the Lore looking like this._

_"I seek Hashana-Ki," Ace announced, calling Carl's werewolf by name. "I am his companion Kheresha-Ti, and I seek Hashana-Ki."_

_He took a step forward, and heard no reply. He stepped forward again. Still nothing. He decided to keep on walking, and make his request as he went. Maybe he would find him eventually._

_He kept walking and calling, seeking out the wolf he needed. He saw several while he was walking, and they all hissed at him before they recognised him as one of their own. Everyone he saw was a wolf, and Ace did think it odd he never appeared here in wolf form. His human personality was also more prominent too, though he could always feel the werewolf inside him on the fringes of his consciousness, even in the Lore. Still, he had never been attacked or driven out for coming here, so perhaps it was just his odd little quirk._

_It wasn't until he found himself at the foot of an old well that he heard a reply. He didn't know why there was a well there anyway, because he'd never seen any man-made structures anywhere in all the times he'd travelled there. Nevertheless, when he called for Hashana-Ki, a reply came from down the well. It was a long, lonely, painful cry, and Ace found himself greatly affected by it._

_"Hashana-Ki? Are you trapped down there? How did you get down there?" Ace called as he peered into the inky blackness._

_There was a howl of a reply, which his wolf translated for him. Apparently he'd been down there for centuries, but no one knew how to get him back. Wolves can't climb, and no one comes here in human form. They once did, which is why the well existed in the first place, but no longer. Ace didn't think he'd be any good at climbing down there to save him either, given the walls looked slippery and he had no rope. But perhaps he could get Bev here and maybe the two of them could help him out._

_"Are you hurt, Hashana-Ki? Are you ill? I may be able to free you, if I have my friend with me. Marasti-Ja of the Bragana Clan. You know of her, yes?" Ace called, referring to Bev's werewolf, who was female, matching Bev's human body's sex as opposed to his gender._

_An angry howl came back, and Ace had not felt such vitriol from a wolf before. He did not know what rivalry was between them, but clearly their wolves did not get on at all._

_"I can't help you by myself. I need another wolf. Marasti-Ja is all I have. I don't know anyone else. Do you want to get out or not? Because I'm happy to just leave you there, you know. No skin off my back if you don't get free," Ace said, hoping to bait him into accepting Bev's help._

_There was no reply. Ace got the sense he was being ignored. He found it strange that the wolf would rather stay down there than be helped out by someone he hated, but in some strange way, he did understand it._

_Ace sighed. "As you wish. But just so you know, I meant what I said when you sired me. I want to help you. I know you're scared, and you're probably alone and cold and hurt down there, but I want to help. I just want to help. Because the man you're living with is a good friend of mine, and you're hurting him. I'm going to do everything I can to help him, because I'm not going to let you destroy him. I'm going to keep coming back here and I'm going to keep offering our help. If you want to keep refusing, fine, but one day, we're just going to climb down there and get you ourselves, whether you like it or not."_

_Ace waited for a reply, but none came. There wasn't much point in hanging around, so he turned and left the well. He would keep his word. He would tell Bev what he'd learnt, and they would go back until the damn wolf was free. Ace was sure that was the root cause of many of Carl's problems. The wolf was trapped, lonely, and afraid, and the Lore was stopping him from really being free. His trauma was seeping through into Carl, and they were both suffering. Ace was determined to help them both, whether they liked it or not._

* * *

_Down in the well, the wolf listened to the retreating footsteps of the wolf who had dared to come and find him. He huddled against the wall, trying to find any sort of warmth. The well was damp and cold, hard, and unforgiving in its cruelty towards him. For about five minutes every day at noon, a ray of sunlight flooded down to him, bringing him the warmth he so desperately craved. But it never lasted. As soon as it came, it disappeared, and he was left alone in the shivering cold once more._

_He had long forgotten how long he'd been here. Centuries, perhaps. He had tried to get up before, but the walls were slippery, and his claws just did not grip properly. He was starving, too. All he had were small rats and mice that kept coming close enough to kill. Once a rabbit fell down. It as a pitiful existence, and he hated it. It had no dignity._

_He cursed the wolf who had come to see him. He had been the only one who'd found him in all the time he'd been trapped down here, but he'd sent him away. He did not want to be rescued, not by someone who knew that **traitor**. Hashana-Ki would never admit it, because his pride always came first, but the humiliation he'd received from the Bragana Clan was still a scar he bore, and until it left him, he would never associate with them ever again. The world would never see that wound. _

_It was a ridiculous grudge to hold, of course. Hashana-Ki knew that. But he had always been a proud wolf, and he would not let the humiliation stand. It had hurt too much to be sent away by them. The Clan Chief had sent him away, refusing to protect him, no matter who his mate was. Not even Marasti-Ja could save him. Saddened, beaten, and afraid, he had limped away from the conflict, defeated. The Clan would never accept a lone wolf for a mate, so he would be left on his own._

_The aching loneliness of those times still haunted him. He was always afraid of any wolf he met in case they recognised the mark that had been left on him. It proclaimed the ones who had rejected him, and it was permanently etched into his neck. He had tried many times to scratch it out, but it always returned. It would always display the Bragana crest, and the wound striking through the mark that the Clan Chief had given him. He was nothing more than an outlaw, a rouge wolf with no friends or allies, and no clan that would ever accept him._

_It was the harshest lesson he'd learnt when he'd begun to get to know the Lore and the other wolves around him. He had done his best to defer to experience, but he had learnt the hard way that hereditary wolves were not his friends. No clan would ever have him, and now he was stuck down a well, helpless and afraid._

_The very thought that a Bragana wolf would save him made him sick to his stomach. The very thought of being bonded to a Bragana, when the very cause of their rift was that he would never be accepted by them, disgusted him. No, he would rather stay down a bloody dark well than be saved by a **Bragana**._

* * *

Bev found Ace some time later sitting on the back step. Bringing him some coffee, he sat down beside him. There wasn't much to look at, given how close they were to the coast. The garden was all they had, productive though it was. 

"She felt you travelling the Lore earlier. Find anything?" Bev asked.

Ace shrugged, glancing up a moment to follow a sparrow as it flitted between a couple of trees. "His wolf hates your guts. I don't know why. I didn't ask. But he hates you so much he'd rather stay in the mess he's in than accept your help."

Bev hadn't expected that. "What did she ever do to him?"

"Like I said, I didn't ask."

"That explains a lot, though. Of course it'd be his wolf causing him all that trauma. But if he's not willing to accept any help, then I suppose it's not our place to act. Werewolves don't like being forced to do anything, really. If we help him, if we go in there and drag him out from wherever he's stuck, well, technically, he'd owe us his life, and it's kind of binding. I can understand not wanting to be bound like that. It causes issues," Bev said.

"So we're just going to leave him there? We're just going to let him suffer like that until he's dead? No, I don't think you believe that for a moment. This is Charlie we're talking about. I care about him more than I care about his bloody wolf," Ace said.

Bev sighed. "Wolves don't work like that. It's not that simple. You can't just separate the wolf and the human. They're almost like two sides of a person. I mean, the wolf is a separate consciousness, but it's not as simple as blaming the wolf. It's not always that simple."

Ace glanced at him. "So how does it work then?"

Bev took a sip of coffee as he thought of a response. "I'm a werewolf. Transforming into the wolf is what I do. But she's not separate from me. She's more like a higher consciousness. She's female because the wolf always aligns to biological sex. She had no control over my human gender, which is why I'm a man."

Ace thought a moment before shaking his head. "I don't get it. How can she be a higher consciousness if she's so tied to your body? You talk about her as a separate being. How is she you?"

Bev took a deep breath, unsure he was really in the mood to explain everything in the required amount of detail to him. "Perhaps it's a difference of experience. I was born with my wolf. I was never going to be anything other than a werewolf. But you chose this. You and Charlie, you got invaded, and maybe it's hard for you to really understand how it works for me. I'm a hereditary wolf. My family line is pureblood werewolf, as far back as the Lore can remember. This has been a part of my life since I was a child. The wolf never felt separate from me. She was always a part of me."

"So why are you a man then? I don't get that either. If she's so much a part of you, why ... why all this?" Ace said, gesturing towards Bev's body.

Bev offered a helpful smile. "Mate, if I knew the answer to that, I'd tell you. I really don't know. I knew since I was a child. I always thought of myself as male, but this body was female, and she came with it. I still don't know how my mother even understood when I told her, but she didn't shun me. She helped me as best she could. It would be hard, because I wanted to change gender at a time when my body was undergoing partial transformations. It fucked with everything, man. I look back on that time and I still can't understand how I survived. I was a bloody mess. I was running wild. Like, I would literally run away for days on end, and hide out in the woods, usually around the time of the full moon when I'd be partially transformed. I guess I didn't want anyone to see me, because I looked like what you'd expect a half-wolf, half-human to look like. I was drawn to wolves, of course, and I always found a den to sleep in. My mum couldn't do anything about it. I was a mess, but she just let me go. I think she thought I'd work it all out eventually." 

"What did you even do out there?"

"Communed with the wolf, mostly. It's where I learnt most about the Lore. I wish I could convey what we talked about into words, but it's just impossible. I still can't even manage to write it all down. It's there that I came to understand how we're not separate entities."

There was silence between them then. Bev was trying to find the right way to explain it that would make sense. Ace sat there, slowly drinking his coffee, as he stared at the ground. 

"How do you appear when you visit the Lore, anyway?" Bev asked after a while.

Ace shrugged. "I'm human, but I use his name. Bear his mark around my neck. Why?"

Bev looked at him. "But it's your name. It's your mark. The wolf is like another soul. It's another part of you. It's a part of you that only the moon can awaken, and you only assume it when you visit the Lore. Some have called it an animalistic soul, and I suppose in some ways, that's true. But it's not really accurate. It's primal, and it's driven by base instincts and emotions. I've often wondered if it's actually a part of every human being. It's just werewolves have somehow managed to awaken it, and transformations are a way of dealing with that. We let ourselves free in a way that we can never be free as human beings. I don't know if it's the best explanation, or even the right one, but it's the one I like the most. I like that it's a release from the stifling confines of society. And believe me, growing up and changing gender back when I did makes you intimately aware of how stifling society can be."

Ace got to his feet and walked into the garden. Bev joined him, and they walked through the fruit trees and garden beds, both lost in thought. Ace wasn't sure he was ready to accept the wolf as a primitive soul he'd been born with. He didn't want to think of himself like that. He knew what the wolf could do, and he didn't like thinking that it was part of him. 

Ace broke the silence by changing the subject. "So are we going to stay here forever? Because I bloody miss Roy and Trev. I don't feel like we're doing anything here except surviving between transformations. That's all we're doing. There's nothing else to do. There has to be something we can do other than this, right?"

"Where would we even go? You've seen what's happened. They've quarantined the cities. We'd never get in, even if we knew where they were. There are too many camps, anyway. I'm not searching them all. No, the further we are from those soldiers, the better. I'd rather not draw any attention to ourselves," Bev said.

"But what good is it doing? I just feel - restless. I never believed that after beating that dragon and stopping a zombie apocalypse, that we'd end up living in a bloody abandoned town growing our own vegetables and looking after cows and mad wolf Charlie. Is this really what you thought we'd end up doing?" Ace said.

Bev shrugged. "What else can we do, though? People will notice transformations. The soldiers will think there are more zombies about and things will just get worse. No, it's much better if we stay here and keep out of their way."

"I'd never thought of it that way," Ace admitted. 

"She said other wolves have gone missing. Felt them disappear from the Lore. Either they're being killed, or they're being prevented from transforming. I'd strongly suggest the soldiers are doing that. They're afraid now, so naturally any strange thing is suspect. Can't you tell the whole country is in shock? This is their primal reaction to what's happened. We transform. They hide in bunkers and ask men with guns to guard them, even though they don't know what they're doing. They're scared. What do you expect them to do? They're not ready to have us around just yet. We're better off here than trying to integrate. Just leave it a while until they've had time to deal with it properly. Then we might be safe again. At least, we might be as safe as we usually are when living among humans," Bev said.

"True. I wonder when things will be safe again. Some days it feels like things will never heal. We'll survive, but we're too scared to go out into the world again. I worry about the soldiers, too. Those people are relying on them for protection, because they don't know any better. I worry about what else it means. How do we know those soldiers are ever going to leave? Any Government would be wetting themselves if they had the scenario they've got now. People are afraid and willing to rely on whoever's willing to protect them. They don't know the apocalypse is over. They don't know they're safe. There's no communication systems. Everyone is isolated. It's rife for corruption and greed. This is not going to end well, and if we end up with any sort of free society at the end of this, I'll eat my bloody hat," Ace said.

"You're worried about that too? So it's not just me, then," Bev murmured.

Ace spat on the ground. "Never trust the pigs. Never trust the Government. Served me well me whole life. Maybe I should've become a werewolf sooner. That's true freedom, that is. Yer right about that. Society is so utterly stifling."

Bev glanced over at him and sung softly. "Mamma, can I trust the Government?" 

"No fucking way."


	6. Chapter 6

Brum woke to find the house in darkness. It must be night time. He didn't know how long he'd slept for, but he did know his wheels had stopped hurting at last. Maybe a quick trip around to see where he was might be a good idea. He thought Roy and Trevor were probably asleep, so he would leave them alone for now.

Leaving the house, he headed out onto the main road. It was eerily quiet, like every town had been. There was no moon, and everything felt much darker than Brum liked. His headlamps lit the way as he drove ahead, wondering where the bull was. 

It was a little scary being out in the dark on his own, but he appreciated the time to himself. He had grown to like the quiet of being on his own because it gave him time to sort through all the bad things in his head. As he drove through the streets, he cast his headlamps over the houses he passed. He wondered how they felt, being all empty and abandoned. One house in particular seemed to shiver and reach out to him, but Brum found it quite frightening and sped on, wanting to be away from the bad energy of that house.

At the end of the street, he found a small area of woodland. Brum stopped. In the darkness, it looked particularly frightening, and he was about to turn around and go back when he saw a bright flash, and thought it was the bull in spirit form. Instead, when the light dimmed, he saw a red dragon standing before him. 

"Oh, my wheels and wipers! A dragon!" Brum exclaimed, driving back a little in fear. 

The dragon considered him as it stepped forward. It was lit by its own queer glow, standing out in the darkness of the street clear as day. A forked tongue flicked out towards Brum, and it narrowed its eyes. 

"You are with the seer?" 

"What's a seer?" Brum asked. He wasn't sure he knew the word.

The dragon shifted, irritated. "The one who reads cards. The one with the pendulum. The seer. Where is he?" 

"Oh! You mean Roy! I think he's back in the - oh, I don't think Trevor told me where they are. Maybe the houses in the main street, they're a few streets back from here. I can't remember how to get back, though. Oh, but I could - "

Before Brum could finish, the dragon had vanished. Brum was so surprised, he stayed where he was for several minutes until he realised he might want to go back after the dragon, in case it was looking to harm them. It did have very big teeth, and he didn't like the thought that he'd told the dragon where to find them, and he'd find their chewed up bodies strewn all over the house. In a panic, Brum sped off, trying to retrace his steps to make sure he got back to where he'd started.

After a couple of wrong turns, he had found the high street, and he checked the houses he'd remembered Trevor telling him about, but no matter how much he tooted his horn, no one responded, and the houses were both dark and cold and empty. Dismayed, he turned around, wondering if they hadn't moved across the street. It was then that he noticed the lights on in the pub, and realised that was probably where they were. He'd learnt that was a good way to tell which building Roy and Trevor were in by seeing if there were any lights on. He also noticed someone had made a ramp out of a piece of wood in front of the door to the pub, and Brum had a feeling Trevor had left it there so he could get in. There must have been a step there, and Brum would have had trouble with that. Hoping he wasn't too late, he raced off towards the pub.

* * *

Roy was lying back in a lovely hot bath. Every muscle was beginning to relax, and the stress of all the walking was slowly beginning to leave his body at last. As he lay there, he pushed all the bad memories away. He didn't want to think about them, even if the burning city was still stubbornly in his mind, refusing to be forgotten. He shed a tear at the memory, taking a moment to grieve for his destroyed home. 

Roy tried not to think about those bad memories for too long. He had a terrible habit of dwelling on them so much they consumed him, particularly during moments of still contemplation like the one he was currently in. Lying back in the hot water, knowing he wasn't at home, he couldn't settle his mind, and it just wanted to replay the long reel of trauma in a bid to attempt to deal with it. He could hear the screaming, smell the smoke from the fire and the awful stench of burning bodies, and he could see all too clearly the wretched condition of the camps. All those miserable people, who had managed to survive the apocalypse, were now stuck in a miserable camp surrounded by soldiers. Roy had hated it so much he had fled, and he wished others had fled with him, but no one except Trevor, Carl, Ace, and Bev knew the danger they faced if they stayed there any longer. The full moon was drawing near, and the prospect of werewolves transforming in a camp full of frightened people was probably more likely to get them all shot. Leaving was the best choice.

Still, it didn't make it any easier to deal with. He and Trevor were now out on their own, surviving as best they could on what was left in the world. Before they'd left, Roy had thought he'd be prepared for this life, but that was before he'd left. It was a gruelling torment made no easier by the fighting and their shared and personal trauma. Roy knew he had trauma to deal with, and he knew Trevor did too. Brum was probably suffering the worst, lacking any capacity to express what he was going through. But dealing with all that just wasn't a priority. It couldn't be, not when they had to keep walking and keep surviving on what little was left for them. 

Opening his eyes, Roy was startled to see a rather familiar-looking red dragon hovering over him. That had not been what he had expected to see when he opened his eyes. Shocked, he moved back away from him, wondering what he wanted. 

"You could have bloody knocked, you bloody lout!" Roy said. 

The dragon merely narrowed its eyes. "You are fleeing again. Why?" 

Roy shifted and tried to get comfortable. "No I ain't. What makes you think that?"

The dragon did not appear to move. "I see it in your heart. You are fleeing. You are afraid of what is to come."

Roy got defensive. "They burn my bloody city down! What did you expect me do to? Hang about and get arrested? I don't think so. I thought you were done with me, anyway. Didn't I already tell you I wasn't interested? Why are you back again?"

The dragon straightened. "There are still ... problems."

Roy was not impressed. "You're a dragon. You fix it. I'm done with being the hero."

It flicked its tongue out at him, agitated. "It is not a problem we can fix. I was - overruled."

Roy got the sense that the dragon was not exactly pleased to be here either. He wondered what was so important they had been called up by the dragons again. "And I told you I was done with being the hero. Find someone else."

"There is no one else. The fates call on you alone. It is your call to answer. Fail, and society will fall."

Roy crossed his arms. "Yeah? Well, that's their problem, not mine. I ain't doing it."

The dragon reached out and pressed a claw against his chest. Roy could feel his claws pricking into his skin. He wondered if the dragon might just kill him anyway, fates be damned. 

"The fates see only you. You cannot escape this. It is written in the stars. Your future is set. It cannot be changed. It would be better for you to accept this than fight against it. It will be - less painful for you," the dragon said.

Roy considered his response. He didn't think the dragon was lying. He didn't think the dragon before him was the lying type. If the dragon said his fate had been cast, he wasn't sure he could really avoid it. He didn't like predestination. He hated it with a passion. Predestination always led to disaster and death. He could just see himself dying as a martyr while the oppressive state crushed him into oblivion. He shivered. There was a whiff of truth to it that he didn't like, but if it had been cast in stone, and he couldn't avoid it, perhaps he'd better just accept it. The dragon was right. Running from fate tended to be much worse than embracing it. Maybe he might even survive.

He sighed as he looked up at the dragon. "Alright. I'll - I'll look into it. But this had better not involve more bloody walking."

The dragon almost managed to look insulted. "For now, you are to continue your journey and find the werewolves. There you will stay until I return to give you further instructions. It is - time sensitive. You cannot act too soon, or it will not work. But too late, and everything will fall. You must hurry. If you are not with the wolves by the next full moon after the winter solstice, all shall be lost."

"I thought an apocalypse was meant to do that, you know." Roy sighed. "Alright. We'll go wait with the wolves. I'm assuming things are going to get much worse before they get better, yeah?" 

The dragon nodded contritely. "Correct. You should prepare. The cards will advise you. If you find anyone else out there, bring them with you. They would be - appreciated." 

Roy didn't think there was much chance of that happening, but before he could reply, the dragon had vanished. Roy sunk back down into the hot water, less relaxed than he had been. He was not looking forward to being called on by the dragon once more. Roy was not in the mood to be playing the hero again. He thought he'd earnt his rest by now. God knows he had no energy left to fight. All he wanted to do was retire to the countryside and forget the whole zombie apocalypse had even happened. That wasn't too much to ask, was it?

* * *

The first Trevor knew of any intruders was the sound of Brum's horn as he came tearing into the pub, yelling about a dragon. He realised his nap was not going any further; tired and half-awake, he left the room and headed out to the landing to find Brum at the bottom of the stairs, urgently calling to him. 

"Trevor! Trevor, I went outside, just for a moment, and I met a dragon! It was that red one from the castle! He was asking after the seer. I think he meant Roy? But then he vanished and I don't know where he went or what he wants. What do we do, Trevor? Have you seen the dragon?" Brum called.

Trevor headed downstairs and took a seat on the bottom step. "What's this about dragons? I ain't seen no dragons. You sure it was a dragon?" 

Brum was quite insistent that it was a dragon, and he felt he had enough nervous energy to drive up the stairs if he was given half a chance. He drove around restlessly, hoping he wasn't too late. "Yes, yes, I'm sure of it. It had a slivery tongue and enormous wings and a long tail and looked very much like a dragon! It was red and glowing and he wanted to know where the seer was. I told him he was down here. Should I have done that? I wasn't sure - it was a scary dragon, and it didn't like me. It's not going to eat Roy, is it?"

Trevor had no idea. "I'm really not awake enough for this right now. Maybe it just wants to tell him about the fates or something." 

"What are the fates? Why would a dragon need to tell Roy about them?" Brum asked.

To be honest, Trevor wasn't entirely sure either. He gestured vaguely, dismissing the idea. "I don't know. Look, I pay no attention to all that bloody divination stuff, alright? He thinks those bloody cards of his tell the future, but I'm not sure. I don't know how cards could predict the future. Makes no bloody sense to me. But I can't really talk. I believed all sorts of daft things when I was a young lad. He seems to get some sense out of it, so I can't really complain, but I don't know how it works."

"I don't know how it works either. They just look like strange cards to me. And that stone he keeps hanging over the maps. I don't understand that either. It just looks like he's swinging it. I don't get it. Why are we following a swinging stone? Where are we going, Trevor? When will we stop? I don't know if I like all this travelling. Adventures are more fun when you meet people," Brum said.

Trevor shrugged. "No fucking idea. Roy says we're looking for the werewolves, and apparently that pendulum - that's the swinging stone - tells him which direction to go. But I am tired of not knowing when this is going to end. I reckon we could be quite comfortable here if he'd just let us settle. I can't see how it's suddenly so urgent to find the werewolves."

"I do miss them, though. I often think about Charlie. I wonder how he is. He liked talking to me, and I liked him too. I taught him lots of words. Do you think he's any better?" Brum asked.

"No idea. I hope so, but who knows? They might all have died by the time we bloody find them. If only they'd said where they were going before they fled, maybe we'd know where to go. We could've even gone with them. That would've saved us witnessing the burning city," Trevor said.

Brum didn't want to be reminded of that. He had tried so hard to forget the image, but it proved impossible. Every time went to sleep, he saw the burning city. The fires kept coming closer and he could not escape. He kept seeing everyone he loved being burnt. Everything was being destroyed. 

"Trevor, we're never going home, are we? I'm never going to see the museum again," Brum said, his voice quiet and sad.

Trevor sighed deeply. "I don't think so, lad. It's all bloody gone. It's all bloody gone in the fire."

"It makes me feel really sad, Trevor," Brum said. If he'd been capable of withdrawing into himself, he might've done it. But as a car with a rigid body, it was not possible. Instead, he dimmed his headlamps and his body seemed to sigh as he lowered himself closer to the ground using the suspension on his wheels. 

"It's alright to be sad about it. It makes me feel really sad too, Brum. That's normal," Trevor reassured him.

"Will it ever stop being sad? I don't like feeling this way," Brum asked after a moment's silence.

"It will, eventually, once enough time passes that you've robbed it of all the pain it used to cause you," Trevor said.

Brum didn't really understand that, but he did like that he wouldn't feel this way forever. One day he would stop being sad about the burning and it wouldn't hurt as much as it did right then. He didn't know when that would be, but at least it would happen some day.

Just as Brum was about to leave, Roy joined them, taking a seat beside Trevor. Trevor glanced over at him. "What's up with you? Brum said he saw that red dragon, and it was asking after you. What's it this time? Another bloody quest, hey?" 

Roy shrugged. "Not for a while. The dragon just wants us to get to the werewolves and lie low. Said the cards would tell me how to prepare. We're being asked to be heroes again, Trev but I'm not sure I have the energy anymore."

Trevor brought an arm around his shoulder. "Let's just stay here for a while. A week or two. Maybe longer, if we need it. Then we'll go off to find the wolves. I think we're all too bloody tired to consider that right now. Get some good sleep, make repairs, restock the supplies, and see what we can find here that'll help. Don't think about dragons or pendulums. I think we could all use some time to just stop for a while." 

Roy sighed. "Yeah, alright. That sounds - nice. We can't stay forever, though. The dragon says we've got to find the wolves before the first full moon after winter solstice, so we've got till probably late January to find them. I hope it doesn't take that long, but I'd rather not delay too much, nice as it is here."

"So, what's the date today, anyway? Anyone know? Just so we've got some idea of how much time we've got left," Trevor asked.

"I found a little calendar in the bathroom. It took a bit to figure out the date, but it's October 16th, I think. I might nick it once we go so I can count the days, and maybe a calendar for next year too, if I can find one, just in case I need it. We've been walking for about a month, in case you wanted to know," Roy said.

"Seems a lot longer than that. But that should give us, what, three months until we need to be with the wolves? That should be enough time, right?" Trevor said, trying to be optimistic.

"Believe me, I'm praying to any higher being who's listening to me to guide us there as fast as possible. I don't want to know what'll happen if we miss that deadline. The dragon implied it wouldn't be nice," Roy said, fighting back a shiver.

Brum had kept silent while they talked, not really understanding what they were talking about. He approached them again, wondering if they might tell him what was going on. "So the dragon just wants us to do something then? Is that right? Is that why he came looking for you?"

Roy nodded. "Yeah, he's got a job for us to do. We're going to have to save the world again, Brum. Do you think you're up for it?"

Brum looked at them excitedly, eager to get going. "Oh, yes, I think I can do that! That sounds like a very important job. This will be like before, when we killed the zombie dragon, right? It's that kind of important, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's that important. Except we're not fighting zombies or dragons this time, but people. I'll - I'll explain it to you later, alright? I'm still getting my thoughts together. But we'll talk about it once we find the wolves, alright?"

"How long will that take? How long is it until we have to find them?" Brum asked.

"I'm hoping we'll be with them by the end of the year. That's another two and a half months. I'd like to skip as much of the winter as possible, if that's alright with you," Roy said.

"No complaints from me," Trevor said. "Oh, and we're staying here in the pub now, Brum. I didn't get a chance to tell you before. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, no, I don't mind. I saw the ramp outside and the lights, so I knew you were here. This place looks much bigger than those houses. More room for me! Where can I sleep? I can't get up those stairs either. Where are you sleeping? How long are we going to stay here anyway?"

"Yeah, there's plenty here for you to explore. Why don't you go round and find somewhere to sleep? There are some bedrooms upstairs, and that's where Roy and I are sleeping, but you just make a racket like you did when you first came in here and I'll be right down, alright?" Trevor said.

The chance to explore was not one to turn down. "Oh, yes, I will go explore! I'll see you tomorrow, Trevor. Goodnight, Roy. I hope we stay here a while, I like it already!" Brum said excitedly.

With a toot of his horn, Brum drove off, leaving Roy and Trevor on the stairs. 

"Nightcap?" Trevor said, gesturing towards the bar.

Roy thought that was exactly what he needed. "I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

"I'm assuming the plan is to drink ourselves into oblivion?" Roy asked as he slid onto a barstool.

Behind the bar, Trevor retrieved a bottle of vodka and poured a couple of shots for them. "You look like you need it, man."

Roy didn't disagree. "Bloody dragons," he grumbled before downing his shot.

"Bloody zombie dragons," Trevor added before he emptied his glass. "Want another?"

Roy nodded as he pushed his glass forward. "Get me plastered, Trev. Hand over the vodka."

Trevor was amused by the request, and he was determined to do his best to get Roy as drunk as possible. Another three shots were drunk before Trevor suggested something else. It wasn't that he disliked vodka; he just didn't want to miss the chance to exploit a well-stocked bar without having to pay for anything.

"We're not gonna try everything in the bar, are we? That'll take us weeks," Roy said as Trevor produced a bottle of tequila. 

Trevor shook his head. "Nah, nah, man. I mean, d'you wanna get drunk quickly, or d'you wannit to take all night?" 

"I think we'd better take it slow. I want to drown my sorrows, not pass out before I've had a chance to enjoy meself," Roy decided.

Trevor was disappointed. "Killjoy."

"Hey, by all means, do tequila shots till you pass out behind the bar. I'll be over there playing billiards until the morning. Take yer pick," Roy said. "Now, hand me a vodka tonic and get over here. It ain't no fun playing on me own." 

Trevor actually thought that was a decent idea. He hadn't played pub billiards for years. "Alright. Yer on."

Drinks duly produced, they headed over to the larger of the two tables. It sat in a corner, and looked like a very well made full-sized billiards table. Trevor was impressed. He'd never played on a table that good before. Roy painstakingly lined up all the balls, making sure they were in the right order. It was a little harder than usual as he normally didn't do vodka shots, let alone do vodka shots right before billiards, but what the hell. If he squinted, he could just manage to align them properly and remove the rack. Taking a cue, he chalked it up and prepared to break. 

"I wish the others were here. Ace used to play mean billiards," Trevor said, leaning against his cue as he watched Roy break, sending the balls scattering all over the table.

Roy straightened, pleased with the shot. "He did. I almost miss his version. Remember all those daft rules he had?" 

Trevor smiled. "Yeah, I can't half remember them all or I'd suggest we try it out."

"That's because we'd do shots if we missed. No wonder we can't remember how to play it," Roy said as he took his first proper shot. The cue ricocheted off the ball and scattered a pair that had been in the way of the one he really wanted a shot at.

Trevor had forgotten that. "Wasn't there something about how long you could take to make a shot? Or was it something else?" He lined up the cue ball, carefully, and took his shot. Another miss, but at least he didn't have to take a shot for it.

Roy thought as he moved around the table. "I remember something about only being able to walk clockwise around the table. Taking a shot with only one foot on the ground. Didn't we have to always go in age order or something weird like that?" 

Trevor shook his head. "Alphabetical, so he'd always go first. Ace comes before Bev and Carl, remember? Prick."

Roy found an angle he liked and took aim. If he didn't fuck it up, he'd pocket the first ball. In a great show of skill, he not only managed to get it in, but also sent a second one near enough to a side pocket to get it next time. "Cheating prick."

"I don't recall it being a problem when we were playing, though," Trevor said.

Roy straightened. "Oi, he won ten quid off me because of his cheating. An' he ain't never paid me back for it."

Trevor shrugged. "Hey, you were daft enough to bet against him. Your loss."

Roy pocketed the second ball as if it was an act of revenge some forty years too late. "I ain't no idea how he was so good when he was pissed."

"He got us pissed, that was how he did it. We were too drunk to notice he was cheating," Trevor said. He moved back against the wall, getting out of Roy's way. He'd decided he wasn't going to win this one. 

"To be fair, he hardly had to force it on us," Roy said.

Trevor had to admit that was true. They'd all been willing players, and willing drinkers. Every time Ace suggested they play, Trevor was convinced that he'd win this time. But he never did. Trevor was sure it was because Ace kept changing the rules. He could never keep up with them.

He was suddenly reminded of one night of sheer one-upmanship that had led to Ace and Trevor playing long after everyone else had given up. Once they'd been kicked out of the pub, they'd somehow ended up back at Trevor's flat. They'd ended up in bed together. Trevor particularly remembered the moment Ace had first kissed him. He could remember the warmth of his breath on his cheek, and the stench of alcohol, and the sudden moment when their lips had met. It sent electricity down Trevor's spine as they hid just inside the front door. Ace's eyes had seemed impossibly blue, and his touch gave him goose bumps all over his skin. A hand had grasped his hair, and their legs tangled together as they pressed against the wall, locked in a kiss Trevor felt had gone on forever. There was no space between them, and their hands explored their bodies with tenderness and care. He remembered all those particularly vivid details - he was still sure he could remember the smell of the exact type of brandy they'd been drinking that night, but the rest of the night was a vague, blurry mess. Even all these years later, the memories of that night had not emerged from the recesses of his mind, and in some ways, he was thankful for it.

Remembering that moment brought with it a sting of pain. Trevor hadn't seen Ace for weeks, not since he'd run off with Bev and Carl. He suddenly missed him terribly, and with no idea if they were even still alive, all he wanted to do was be with him. They'd never really been lovers, but during moments of loneliness, they always seemed to find each other. Huddling together in the dark seemed to be the only comfort that helped. They had shared other kisses since that first kiss, but none lived in Trevor's memory quite like that first one. If he closed his eyes, he could feel all those sensations all over again as if they had happened only yesterday.

"Are you sure they're still alive?" Trevor asked, breaking the silence.

Roy looked up at him, drunken confusion on his face. "Pendulum don't lie, Trev. It wouldn't be telling us where to go if they weren't there to be found. It don't work like that." 

"You sure it's picking up the right werewolves, though?" 

Roy nodded emphatically. "Of course it is. I got nicknames fer everyone, and it knows 'em. I asked for them specifically. They're alive."

Trevor shook his head, not convinced. He'd never been particularly convinced of Roy's psychic abilities, but he was beyond caring anymore. He'd accepted he would never be able to convince Roy they were bullshit, just as Roy would never be able to convince him they were real. It was just one of those things they'd never agree on.

* * *

Trevor had no idea what time it was once they finished playing. Did they even finish, or did they just stop? It was hard to tell. All he remembered was making their way back upstairs at some God-forsaken hour and falling into bed together. Whose bed, he couldn't remember. All he remembered was a bed.

It felt like the strangest dream, given what Trevor remembered about it. They'd both been sad, he remembered that much. Somehow, he'd been reminded that they really did have nothing and no one left. It was just the two of them, and Brum, until they found the wolves. ( _If_ they ever found the wolves, Trevor remembered interjecting at one point as they made their way across the hall to a bedroom). Aching loneliness collided with drunkenness, and Roy kissed him desperately.

Sitting up in bed, Trevor squinted against the morning light. He was sure it was burning a hole in the middle of his head, given the amount of pain he was currently experiencing. He had not had a hangover this bad for many years, and he pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, trying to get the pain to stop. 

"Oh, God. I am never doing that again," he murmured, knowing full well that if the chance came, and he was in the right mood, it probably would happen again.

Covering his eyes, he got up and tried in vain to close out the bright sunlight, even though it was only coming through a small sliver of curtain. He got back in bed and buried his head under a pillow. As he pulled the blankets down over him, he realised he was naked. As he turned his head, he noticed Roy lying beside him. He was also naked. It implied certain things he had not anticipated happening, and he rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

"Fuck."

Memories slowly seeped into his mind about what had happened after that kiss last night, though the exact details were somewhat vague. He remembered going to bed with him, but was it even sex, or was that just his brain filling in the blanks based on every other time this had happened to him? Surely he was too old to be getting drunk and shagging his mates. For the first time in over a decade, he desperately wanted a fag. 

"What about it?" Roy grumbled as he turned to face him.

"I don't even know," Trevor replied. "All I know is my brain has been crushed into oblivion. How 'bout you?"

Roy squinted and rubbed his temples as he woke up. "Yeah, 'bout the same."

Nothing more was said as they both lay there, dealing with the consequences of the night before. Trevor wondered idly if Roy remembered as much about last night as he did, but he didn't ask. 

Roy slowly sat up beside him. Trevor glanced over at him. It was strange to see him naked. It had been a long time, and his body showed its age, just like his did, he was sure of that. Roy's long dark hair trailed halfway down his back. It wasn't up to its best, even though it had already been cleaned and combed so thoroughly Roy's scalp ached. There was weariness etched into his body that Trevor hadn't seen before. They weren't as young as they used to be, and the last two months had taken its toll on them both. 

Trevor sat up, wondering if now might be the time to ask. "So you don't - you don't regret-"

Roy glanced over at him, eyes filled with understanding and confusion, as if he knew what he was referring to, but wondered why he was even asking. "It was just-" Roy didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah. Yeah, it was."

Trevor leant over and touched his shoulder. Roy gazed off at the wall. It was a comfortable, familiar silence. After a while, Roy took his hand, linking their fingers together. Knowing they had each other was enough, for now. Even if they had no one else, even if it took them another year before they found the wolves, they would have each other. In a post-apocalyptic world where nothing was how it should be, it was enough.

Trevor shifted a little closer. Roy glanced over his shoulder at him. After a moment, they shared a kiss, saying all they couldn't say. It might not've been love, not in the way everyone else might define it, but it didn't matter. They'd been bonded together forty years ago when the zombies first came. It was never going to be otherwise. 

Trevor couldn't help touching him, letting his hands wander now that he was awake enough to remember what it had felt like. Getting to know Roy's body like this was a new experience, but Roy seemed keen as well, as Trevor felt his hands move around to his back, holding him close. It wasn't a repeat of last night, but it did bring them some comfort, expressing the love they shared. Given how tense it had been between them, being able to set all that aside, to forgive and forget and let it all go, would do them both a world of good.

Roy hadn't given in to these sorts of feelings for a very long time. It had never felt quite so important than it did right then. Trevor was an old friend, even though they hadn't been as close as they normally were; walking for six weeks straight would do that to anyone, no matter how close they were. Still, if Roy had to walk halfway across the country to find the werewolves, he was glad he was doing it with Trevor. He was thankful for his company, in spite of their disagreements. He had kept him sane and grounded. He was sure he'd have gone off the rails with loneliness by now if he'd been forced to walk on his own. As introverted as he was, he still needed company, and he was glad Trevor was with him.

It felt strange that they were doing it at all. They'd probably done it once, back when they were young, perhaps if they'd been pissed, but not since then, and the difference in their bodies now was strange, at least to Trevor. They both felt old now, and even though they'd both lost weight since they'd started walking, it hadn't made them look any younger. Now there was coarse hair and weathered skin, bodies that were misshapen and sagging. Trevor was nearly bald now, while Roy still had the long hair he'd always had. His beard was rough against Trevor's skin, but it didn't feel completely unpleasant, not anymore. Indeed, Trevor felt a warm flood of arousal as he touched Roy. He didn't think it'd go anywhere, but the fact it was there pleased him, particularly when he softly brought his hand down to Roy's cock, feeling it harden at his touch. 

They lay down then, lying beside each other, as things intensified. Holding each other close, their pleasure grew, and it pushed away the mild chill in the air. Trevor hadn't thought they'd go this far, not now, but there came a point, after a lot of touching and stroking, that it was indeed going down that road, and Trevor found himself pressing Roy down on his back as he shifted between his legs. Roy audibly gasped as Trevor went down on him, focussing all his energy on that one region between his legs so much it ached with pleasure. Trevor was the one who pushed inside him, too, once they could no longer put it off, and they rocked steadily together with their arms around each other, chasing that release in their own time. 

Trevor held him close once it was over. Roy leant against him, breathing roughly against his shoulder. They might both still be ridiculously hung over, but somehow it didn't matter. Indulging in such intimate behaviour seemed like such a luxury after such a traumatic period of time. Love was precious and there was little of it around. Taking a moment to give it life was important.

"So, is it time for a proper breakfast and fifteen cups of coffee yet?" Trevor asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Roy had to laugh. "I am far too old to be getting blind drunk. I'm gonna need all the eggs and bacon you can bloody find."

Trevor gave him a slow, lingering kiss. "Alright, I'll see what I can do."

Trevor offered a ridiculous bow as he got up. He proceeded to trip over the bedspread, and crashed to the ground. It just set him laughing as much as his arse now hurt and his head was spinning. Roy was laughing too, and it felt good to just laugh at nothing for once. Given all the misery they'd been through over the past three months, nothing felt better than just laughing. 

Roy got to his feet and helped Trevor up. Roy offered him a kiss in between holding back his laughter. Trevor brought him close, relishing the feel of another person so close to him. Roy did his best to manoeuvre them to the hallway without tripping up. With one last kiss, Roy gently pushed him out into the hall. 

"Go on, get dressed and get me some breakfast. This headache's worse than that zombie dragon," Roy teased.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm right on it, alright? Meet me downstairs when you're done," Trevor said.

* * *

Brum could tell something had changed when he finally saw Trevor and Roy come down the stairs. He didn't quite know what it was; all he knew was that something had changed. Still, he drove up to them, excited, as he went to greet them.

"Good morning, Roy! Good morning, Trevor! I've had such strange dreams about dragons!" 

Roy scowled. "Sadly, that dragon was real. Bloody reptiles interrupting my bath time." 

"Oh, stop complaining and go make some bacon cobs. I'm starving," Trevor said as he pushed Roy in the direction of the kitchens. 

Brum followed them eagerly, appreciating their company. He had been having other strange dreams too, and some very sad ones. He thought about them too much when he was on his own in the dark. Having Roy and Trevor there meant he might be able to go on an adventure around town. He missed adventures. He decided to stay out of the kitchens, though. They weren't quite big enough, not even for a little car like Brum, so he kept outside, waiting for them to come back with breakfast. 

It was one of the things he hated about buildings. He was never very good at getting around in them. But cars were not built to go in buildings, so perhaps it wasn't his fault no one built anything that he could easily access. Still, he liked where he could go in this pub, and at least it was larger than all the houses they'd been staying in previously. There was plenty of room to explore, and he didn't feel crowded at all. He never felt like he was getting in anyone's way in this pub.

He drove around the front and tried to see if he could get under every table he could see before him. Revving his engine, he looked at the first table, and tried to see a way through. The chairs were somewhat haphazardly arranged, as if everyone had left in a great hurry. It also gave him a clear run through many of the tables without the chairs blocking his path. 

"Come on, Brum, you can make it," he said to himself as he prepared to start.

The first table loomed as he took off, and in spite of a brush against one of the chair legs, he managed to clear it, and the next three, with no problems. The fourth and fifth required some careful manoeuvring in order to keep going and not hit the chairs. The next two were impassable. Brum was not so small he could easily fit under the chairs, or the smaller coffee tables towards the end of the room. Skirting around them, he took off back towards the bar. 

Brum almost didn't see the billiards table, let alone plan to go under it, but with a quick swerve, he ducked under a corner before driving back out. It was a most exciting adventure, making him feel very brave and accomplished. 

Driving back towards the bar, he managed every table in a row and stopped himself just as Roy and Trevor left the kitchens with their breakfast in hand. They both got out of the way as best they could without sacrificing their meals, and Brum swerved away from them, apologising profusely.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to get in the way!" Brum called as he drove past them and turned, slowing himself down. 

Roy looked back at him. "Right. New rule. The pub ain't a race track. Go tear around outside if you want to do that."

Brum thought he just might do that, and called out his goodbyes as he headed back out to the street. There wasn't much to do outside, but at least there weren't any dragons around. He drove down the street, intending to explore. It would give him something to do that might keep him from thinking about his dreams, at least for a while.

As he turned down a street that seemed to lead to woodland at the end, he saw someone walking down the street further down. Brum got excited, and drove down to see who was there. He wouldn't mind having someone else to talk to. He called out as he drove, but there was no response. The figure kept walking, ignoring him. As he approached the end of the street, Brum couldn't see the figure anymore. He'd come over a crest in the road, once he'd got over that, he found the figure had vanished. Left alone at the end of the street, facing dense woodland, he was all alone. He didn't know where the figure had gone. 

He wondered if he'd gone into the woods, but there was something quite creepy about the woodland, and eventually, Brum decided not to go in there. He thought he might meet another dragon there. Perhaps he should go back to Roy and Trevor. That might be safer. Without looking back, Brum turned and drove back up the street. He didn't see a dark shadow slip out from behind a house and vanish into the woods.


	7. Chapter 7

Ace found himself visiting the Lore again after their latest transformation. It had been a month now, and Carl had not improved. He had sobered up for a week, but then the wolf had taken over again. His behaviour had become so difficult to control, they'd shut him out in the shed just to get some peace. This did nothing but enrage him, but Bev and Ace just could not cope with Carl the way he was. 

Once the post-transformation energies had been dealt with and left to fade away, Ace got himself comfortable and asked to be taken to the Lore again. This time, he took Bev with him so he could show him the well. He could do with Bev's greater knowledge of the Lore, and his connections. Bev knew many more Lorewolves than Ace did. 

They both knew that Carl's condition was not going to get any better unless they fixed the trauma with the wolf inside him. It had obviously been hurt, and now it found itself in a mess it could not get out of. Bev wasn't entirely sure he should go with him, because he doubted his presence would be welcomed, but Ace insisted. He needed Bev there, and maybe they might figure out a way to help him.

_The Lore was cold and snowy, like it always was. Ace found himself standing beside a large and handsome female grey wolf. He was human, as he expected, and checked to see if the wolf's mark was still around his neck. It was nothing more than an etched piece of metal, but it held a great deal of power. It was also not the sort of necklace that could ever be removed either. It was just part of his appearance here in the Lore. Bev wore a similar one around her neck, bearing the mark of his wolf._

_"So, where are we going?" Bev asked._

_"There's this old well. I think I walked for about an hour over that way," Ace said, indicating the direction. "I just kept calling until I found him."_

_Bev thought a moment before speaking. "Hashana-Ki! Dreka si gardasha Bragana Marasti-Ja. Lalla drekta. Lalla drekta!"_

_Ace didn't understand the words she was speaking, but got the impression it was some sort of challenge. He had never been taught the language of the hereditary wolves. He bore a name in that language like every Lorewolf did, but it was not a language he knew how to speak. Marasti-Ja did not wait to hear a reply. She hissed, body tense, and walked forward. Ace decided he'd better follow her._

_Marasti-Ja paced through the snow with a light jog. Ace managed to keep up, though it was tough through snow. He still didn't know where they were going. Marasti-Ja had not bothered to explain, and she did not speak as they ran._

_Eventually, they came to a clearing. Several other wolves stood around, and they looked at Ace and Marasti-Ja as they approached. Ace still held back, apprehensive about being a lone wolf intruding into a pack. One of the wolves approached Marasti-Ja, and there was an exchange of names and scents before she was allowed to proceed. Keeping back, Ace declined to get any closer._

_All the wolves looked the same. It was only when he looked closer that he saw a mark on their necks, the same one he'd seen on Marasti-Ja's neck. Perhaps it was a clan mark. Ace didn't really know. He couldn't understand their conversations either. They were speaking in that language again. At one point, a large male rose and moved to strike at Marasti-Ja, but another pushed him out of the way. He was nipped and scolded, and duly snapped what looked like an apology._

_Eventually, Marasti-Ja returned with another wolf by her side. Ace didn't know which one it was._

_She did not waste words. She indicated the wolf beside her. "Bragana Zerenzo-Ku." Looking at Ace, she said, "Kheresha-Ti. Come, we will leave now."_

_There wasn't even time to argue about it. Marasti-Ja set off, the other wolf behind her. Ace went after them, determined not to be left behind._

_They were off running through the snow again. Ace decided he hated it. Running through snow, even in an astral realm, was no fun at all. It was cold and hard and slippery and wet and the legs of his trousers were soaked. He wished astral realms would provide climate-appropriate clothing._

_Ace thought they'd run for near on an hour before he finally figured out where they were. He saw the well as they approached, and wondered if they weren't going to free Carl already. Ace was keen for it to happen, but if there was history with the Clan, maybe this would be an execution instead._

_Marasti-Ja and Zerenzo-Ku approached the well, looking down into the inky darkness. There was more werewolf language, only this time, Ace could understand it. Perhaps Kheresha-Ti was translating for him again._

_"Hashana-Ki! Bragana challenges you to drekta. Win, and we will embrace you as one of our own. Lose, and be forever banished again. Zerenzo-Ku wishes to face you. Only, we can't do that if you're stuck down there. If you accept drekta, we will come down and get you out," Marasti-Ja called._

_Ace didn't quite understand what drekta meant, but he got the sense it was some kind of challenge. 'It is a battle of honour, though your language is imprecise in this matter,' Kheresha-Ti sent._

_Down in the well, Hashana-Ki made his reply. "You will never honour drekta. You have marked me once. Why would you wish to do so again? Do you take pleasure in my humiliation?"_

_"On my honour as a Bragana, on my shiresh, it is genuinely offered, and will be genuinely honoured. If you win, we will accept you," Marasti-Ja called. "If you win, we can be bonded at last, though I daresay centuries down there may have killed any love you still have for me."_

_There was a soft howl of pain. Ace felt a shiver travel up his spine._

_"Do not presume to know how I feel," Hashana-Ki hissed, his voice filled with venom._

_"If you still feel so strongly about me, then come and challenge Zerenzo-Ku. On my honour, your victory will be honoured," Marasti-Ja said._

_There was silence from the well, then, "Kana sa drekta."_

_Ace didn't quite understand what had been said, but it sounded like some sort of acceptance. He had a feeling he knew what was coming next. He'd have to go down there and get that bloody wolf out of the well._

_Marasti-Ja turned to Ace. "There is a passage into the well from the other side of the hill. It is marked with an oak sapling. Go, get Hashana-Ki out of there, so the drekta can be fulfilled."_

_"I hope it's not going to be dangerous. I ain't got nothing with me for a rescue," Ace said._

_Marasti-Ja straightened. "It is well-maintained. You should not need anything. Though, the door leading out of the well may be jammed. Hashana-Ki may not be aware it is there."_

_Ace idly scratched the back of his head. Of course the door would be jammed. "I'll do my best."_

* * *

_Ace found his way over the hill past the well. The oak sapling was strangely quite noticeable as it sat amongst a pile of rocks. It was only as he got closer that he saw the entrance, a sliver of a gap that would lead inside. It looked impossibly small._

_"No way am I gonna fit in there," Ace murmured. "There must be another way in."_

_His first idea was to try to move the rocks out of the way to make the gap larger. The rocks were heavy, and very reluctant to budge, but he did eventually manage to widen the gap enough for him to get inside comfortably without scragging himself on the way._

_Ace stopped before he went in. "Wait. How'm I meant to see? Looks like a pitch dark tunnel to me, and I didn't bring a torch or anything."_

_'I will gift you my sight,' Kheresha-Ti offered._

_Ace thought it was the strangest sensation to enter that dark tunnel as a human coupled with the werewolf's sight. Night vision was a strange thing indeed, but it did help him navigate. To be fair, there wasn't a lot to navigate, as it seemed to be a pretty flat straight long narrow tunnel, but he could at least see the floor and the walls and the ceiling and feel like he knew where he was going. It was far less disorienting._

_The door at the end surprised him, even though he saw it coming. It was an old wooden door that looked about a thousand years old, with big metal hinges and a broken lock. He touched the door, and it creaked at his touch._

_"Hashana-Ki, are you there? It's Kheresha-Ti. I've come to get you," Ace called._

_"Kheresha-Ti, where are you? How are you down so low?" Hashana-Ki replied, his voice echoing around the base of the well._

_Ace knocked the door hard. "Over here, mate. There's only a bloody door, y'know. There's a tunnel leading back out to the hill. That's how I got in."_

_There was silence, then Ace could hear someone moving._

_"Keep knocking! I need to find it. I can't half hear the echoes in this horrid place," Hashana-Ki called._

_Ace dutifully knocked. "Follow my voice, mate. I'm over here. Just keep coming. The door looks like it might just give way. You'll know it when you find it. It's made of wood."_

_More shuffling. Ace guessed he was making his way around the walls, feeling for the wooden door. Eventually, Ace heard a knock from the other side._

_The wolf rested his paws on the door at last. "This is the door? Has there been a door here the whole time?"_

_"Looks like it. Can you budge it from your side, or do I need to break it down myself?"_

_Ace heard the sound of scratching as the wolf tried to shift the door, but he didn't seem to have enough strength. Ace grabbed the handle and pulled, trying to budge it. When this didn't work either, he tried shoving hard against it, in case it opened the other way. When even that didn't work, Ace resorted to his last option. He aimed a foot square at a beam in the door and kicked. He would get that wolf out one way or another._

_With a few good kicks, one of the boards was broken. Ace knelt down and looked for the wolf. A face soon appeared, sniffing the air cautiously. Ace reached in and touched his snout, reassuring him he was still there._

_"Is it big enough for you yet? Or do I need to kick in another?"_

_Hashana-Ki tried it to see how far he could go, but he got scratched by a splinter and pulled back sharply, howling in pain._

_Ace didn't even need to be told to keep kicking. He kept going, trying to kick out as much of the door as he possibly could. He didn't want him hurting himself any more than he already had. His legs thoroughly sore from the effort, Ace finally had a large enough gap at the bottom for the wolf to get out of._

_"I think that's done it. Wanna try again?" Ace called._

_A snout appeared again, and carefully, a skinny dark grey wolf stepped through into the hallway. His fur was matted and dirty, and it had been scratched bare in places. An ear was torn. He stood unsteadily. Ace gathered him in his arms and carried him out of the tunnel._

_Hashana-Ki did not like being back in the light, and he covered his eyes with a paw as Ace brought him out into the daylight. He whined softly, but he was too weak to resist as Ace carried him back to the wolves waiting by the well._

_"He's in a right state. I wouldn't put him through any sort of test right now if I were you," Ace said as he set the wolf down._

_Hashana-Ki collapsed under his own weight. He was exhausted, tired, sore, and starving. If Marasti-Ja wanted to kill him now, he was sure he wouldn't have noticed._

_He smelt her as soon as she nuzzled against his shoulder. He could not see her - centuries down the well in the darkness had slowly sent him blind. He still knew her when she was near._

_"Hashana, oh, look at the state of you. Come, we will take you back to the Clan to heal you. You will be safe, I promise," Marasti-Ja whispered._

_He lifted his head a little. "Are you still the same beautiful grey I fell in love with all those years ago?"_

_"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"_

_"I'm blind. I can no longer see. All I see is darkness, like I am still trapped down the well," Hashana-Ki replied._

_She pulled away, shocked. "Oh, nightblindness! No. Not my Hashana." She lay back down beside him, making sure he knew she was there._

_"What's nightblindness? I thought that was just not being able to see at night," Ace said._

_Zerzeno-Ku walked over to Ace. "It is our word for losing sight. Night invades the eyes."_

_"Can you fix it then?"_

_Zerzeno-Ku appeared to shrug. "The Lore does not record anyone recovering from nightblindness."_

_"So he's just going to be like that forever? Will it affect his transformations? Will he still be able to see?"_

_"He has been like this for some time. If it has not shown any effects, then there will be none," Zerzano-Ku replied tersely. "His debt now rests with you. It is not our problem."_

_Ace looked at the wolf, confused. "What debt? What are you on about?"_

_"The debtbond for rescuing him lies with you. I am sorry for not telling you before, but it was necessary. He will not heal if he feels indebted to the Bragana Clan. He will accept it from you. It was the only deal that could be struck, or he would still be stuck down that well."_

_Ace wasn't entirely comfortable with that. He didn't mind rescuing Carl, but at the same time, he wished the Clan hadn't got so political about it. Then again, maybe there were reasons he didn't understand that were involved in the decision._

_"Thanks, I think. At least he's out of there now. I'm assuming he's going back with you to the Clan?"_

_"We will take care of him, yes."_

_Ace watched as the two wolves picked up Hashana-Ki between them and began the trip back to the Clan's land. "I'll just stay here, shall I?"_

_There came no reply. Ace felt the tug back to the human world, and as quickly as he'd appeared, he'd left the Lore behind once more._

* * *

Ace woke up in his bedroom. He blinked as he let his vision clear. Memories of everything that had happened during this trip to the Lore floated through his mind. He was already writing. He had gone into meditation with a pen and paper ready so he could begin recalling his memories as soon as he'd come back. It was the only use for shorthand he'd ever found, and it made taking notes much faster. When he felt a little more awake, he sat up to finish his notes. 

"So, did you find anything?" 

Bev's voice interrupted him as he scrawled the memories down. He looked over at him and saw him sitting beside him. "Don't you remember? You were there. We went to see your Clan, then we went to the well. You challenged him to a dretka or something, and once he accepted, you sent me in to get him. I brought him back, but he was blind and badly injured. You and this other Clanswolf carried him off. That's when I came back."

"Oh, those pricks. They tricked you into taking the-"

"The debtbond, yeah. They did. I don't know what that means, though," Ace said.

"Well, you rescued him, so now he owes you his life. There's a bond between you now that none of us can remove. You'll figure out what it really means later on, I think, once he's had a chance to talk to you," Bev said.

"So is he going to get better now then? Since we rescued his wolf?" 

Bev shrugged. "No idea. I hope so. I think we might've managed to heal the rift in our Clan, so maybe things might be more stable. I always felt he'd be better with a Clan to belong to. We can only wait and see now. I'll ask my wolf to keep an eye on things just to make sure no one's going to double-cross him."

"Alright. We'll wait and see."

Ace didn't like it, but there really wasn't much else to do. 

"Cuppa tea?" Bev offered.

Ace nodded. "And some food. I'm starved."

* * *

As they left the bedroom, they heard a howl and metal smashing. Wondering if something had happened to Carl, they raced through to the back yard. They found Carl lying on the ground, eyes wide open as he stared at the sky. He'd broken out of the shed, and the door lay bent and ripped from its hinges. 

"You alright?" Ace ventured.

He turned to them with a look of terror on his face. "Who's that? Who's there? Why's it gone dark?" 

Bev was not happy to hear that. "Oh, God, I hoped it wouldn't do that to him. That bloody wolf has sent him blind like he has. He didn't know before, because it was always dark. But he knows now, and he's inflicted it on Charlie. Fuck that wolf of his. I mean, seriously, fuck that bloody wolf."

They were at his side immediately, helping him sit up. He was afraid, and grasping out for someone to reassure him. Ace didn't like seeing him so distressed.

"No. I'm not blind. Bev, make it go away. I don't like this at all," Carl said. 

Bev couldn't offer any reassurance. "I don't think I can fix it. It's the wolf's fault. I don't have any medicine for that."

"What do you mean, this was the wolf? He did this to me?" Carl asked, confused.

"Yeah, he did. I'm so sorry, Charlie. I really wish I could fix it," Bev said.

There was silence for a while. Carl clung onto Ace and Bev, needing them to help him cope with what had happened. The situation was getting way out of hand, and neither Ace nor Bev knew what to do about it.

* * *

It took hours to get Carl settled. He was frightened and did not know what to make of his current situation. The blindness had come on suddenly, and he was still trying to accept it had happened. At least he was sleeping. It might not have been peaceful, but it was better than seeing him distressed.

Bev and Ace retreated to the back yard, taking a seat on the back verandah. Night had fallen and the stars were out in force. Ace was still surprised at how bright they appeared, away from the big city. The sky felt like it went on forever out there. It was a big glittering dome stretching all around them as far as the eye could see.

"Maybe we should've just left him there. Maybe he'd be alright," Ace said, not sure he'd done the right thing.

"No way. You've got a debtbond to that wolf now. You've got the authority to tell him to fuck off if you really want to," Bev said.

Ace looked at Bev. He wasn't sure he believed him. "Tell his wolf to leave? Like, fer good? I didn't know you could do that."

Bev shook his head. "I wouldn't suggest it unless I thought it was absolutely necessary. It's not done lightly. Charlie could die if we're not careful. His wolf is mad and unpredictable, and I'm not sure we'll ever heal him. My Clan can only do so much if he's not willing."

Ace could read between the lines well enough. He got to his feet. "No. I won't do it. I know what yer trying to say, and I can't even believe you'd say that, not about our Charlie. Maybe I was wrong fer trying to help him out. Maybe I was wrong to trust you." 

He walked into the yard, wanting to find some peace. Bev followed, and grabbed his arm, trying to get him to listen. Ace stopped, but didn't look at him.

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm just - frustrated. I'm worried his wolf is beyond our control, and that any attempt to help him will just put Charlie's life at risk. I know I told you before that the wolf isn't a separate soul, not really, but it might be true for Charlie. I just don't know what I'm doing. I ... I used to love him. His wolf and I were mates once, way back when. But all I remember is he disappeared, and Charlie was never the same again. It's hard to even consider maybe taking his life, but you've got to acknowledge that he's more dangerous than I'm willing to deal with right now. He could turn on us at any moment."

Ace reluctantly turned to face him. "But it's Charlie. Shouldn't we do whatever we can to save him before condemning him? What good does that do if we proclaim him as more of a monster than we are?"

Bev sighed. "I just don't know. I want him to get better, but I worry. I just can't tell if he's too far gone to save. I don't want Charlie to be like this, I really don't. But if he gets too dangerous to be around? Yeah, I'm gonna have to snap his neck. I just don't want him to suffer."

"So what do we do then? Can we do anything at all?" Ace said.

"Let's just see if the Clan can do anything for him. Then we'll decide what to do. You never know, they might pull through after all," Bev said, trying to sound optimistic.

* * *

Carl had spent the better part of a fortnight on the sofa in the front room. He was still blind, and didn't trust himself to navigate the house on his own unless he had either Ace or Bev with him. His behaviour had settled down considerably, though, and he was acting less and less like the wolf and more like a human being. His speech had returned, and Ace was so happy to be able to talk to him again, even if they didn't always talk about pleasant things. Bev was cautiously optimistic. Carl's recovery was a good but tentative sign that he would be alright, and the Clan could heal the irascible wolf. 

There wasn't a lot else to do. Neither Ace nor Bev really wanted to leave Carl alone for any period of time, so they took turns staying with him so the daily jobs still got done. Carl appreciated their company, and even if he wasn't good for much else but conversation, he still did his best to help out as much as he could. Ace liked taking him for walks around the village, just to keep them both busy and active. It helped Carl take his mind off the blindness if he was distracted with other things. 

They were walking now, just slowly down the street outside. Carl was still unsteady on his feet, but with Ace beside him, he was alright, for now. He was almost over the distress of being blind, though he still couldn't navigate properly. 

"Ace, I - I wanted to apologise. I needed a companion, that's why I sired you. And I've treated you so badly lately. And now I'm so hopeless I can't even look after myself. You must pity me."

Ace stopped and turned to face him. He gazed into his eyes, though he wasn't sure Carl knew that's what he was doing. His eyes didn't look any different in spite of the blindness, but Ace could tell. His eyes moved differently now, searching all around him, unsure in the silence.

"We're werewolves. Lunacy comes with the territory. I don't blame you for that," Ace said.

"You saved me, didn't you?" Carl said after a moment's silence, as if it had just occurred to him that it had happened.

Ace wasn't sure what he meant. "Saved you from what?" 

"The well. I - you saw my fear. You saved me. I feel that debtbond now more strongly than I had before. He does ... acknowledge that. The wolf, I mean. He's not better yet, but he is beginning to settle. Being with Bev helps. I think he might've just been heartsick for a very long time, and her presence is - it's healing. And you're helping too. I needed your companionship. I didn't realise that when I sired you," Carl said.

Ace shrugged. "I said I'd be your companion. What else did you really expect me to do? Leave you there to die? Fuck off, I wouldn't have left you alone. I meant what I said. I'd have gone down there and dragged you out eventually, even if you were kicking and screaming the whole way."

Carl braved a smile. "I hope you know what you've got involved in, now that I'm debtbonded to you. I owe you my life. It's a proper bond now between us, until such time as the debt is repaid."

"What happens when the debt is repaid?" Ace asked, noting the hesitation in his voice. He saw a flicker of fear in his eyes.

Carl looked to him for reassurance. "I owe you my life, Ace. I don't survive. Don't you care call in that debt. I never wanted the debtbond to fall to you, but I'm glad it's you. You wouldn't call it in, would you?" 

Ace felt a shiver down his spine. "Not if it means I don't get to have you around. Consider it permanently uncalled."

Carl reached for his hands, squeezed them reassuringly. "Thank you. Thank you."

Ace brought an arm around his shoulder. "Don't thank me. It's what I'm here for. Now, shall we keep on walking? It really is quite nice out here today. I wonder if you can't see anything in that light."

Carl looked around. There wasn't much penetrating the darkness, but he did perceive a small change of lightness. The centre of his vision did not seem quite as pitch black as it had been. Maybe the blindness was receding.

"I can't see anything, but maybe it's - it's just so hard to tell. Everything is still so dark," Carl said eventually.

Ace took his arm and gently led him back down the road back towards the house. "It's alright. I wasn't expecting miracles. I just hope it goes away. I was so worried about you. I just thought - the wolf had sent you blind. What else could it do to you, y'know? Could it kill you? Could it make you kill us? I just was so worried about losing you."

"He'll have to try harder to get rid of me. I still can't believe you read his fear back then. How did you even pick it?" Carl asked.

"Saw it in his eyes, didn't I?" Ace said. He shrugged a little. "I never forgot them eyes. Saw right to his soul, I did. Y'know I expected him to kill me, didn't you? He had me bloody cornered and I had the balls to say he was weak and needed help. I half expected him to kill me. I really thought that's what he was going to do when he went to strike me. But all he did was scratch me enough to give me the curse, an' then he fled. It was like he couldn't bear to face me, even though I'd wanted it."

"I still find that remarkable. I've never really felt like my wolf was a mindless killer, even though I sometimes acted that way. He was just scared, and maybe you were the only one who ever cared enough to offer to help him. Lone wolves are like that, though. Takes a long time for them to respond to that kind of love," Carl said.

"It was just as much about you as the wolf, y'know. Saw you struggling, didn't I? I wanted to help you, so's you weren't on yer own," Ace said.

"I do appreciate it, too. I still sometimes feel weird not being the wolf all the time. Body feels really strange. It doesn't move properly. Maybe it'll fade in time, but I'm not sure. I do feel more like myself, like the wolf's madness is slowly seeping away. That's nice," Carl said.

"Yeah, I can imagine. You lived as the wolf for damn near forty years. I'd be surprised if all that didn't feel weird now you're human again. I wouldn't feel bad about that," Ace said.

Carl glanced over at him, following the sound of his voice. "I was alright as a wolf, wasn't I? I mean, I didn't act like a monster all the time, did I?" 

"Not that I noticed. Then again, I wasn't really with you for most of that time. You and Bev just went off together. Maybe we saw you every now and then, but it weren't regular. You seemed alright, though. You protected us, back then, when the apocalypses happened. I don't know if a heartless monster would do that," Ace said.

Carl was relieved by that. He still thought he was a good person, a good wolf, in spite of the madness. He just hoped things would get better. He wanted to stop being mad and just get back to being a proper werewolf.

* * *

Carl never liked it when he woke up as it looked the same as when he had his eyes closed. The darkness was becoming a weary companion, and he was almost used to it being there by now. At least he had begun speaking again. It had been so hard when the wolf had taken over. It had felt like his tongue had been cut out and he just could not find his voice at all. But it was different now. With the wolf somewhat subdued, his mind was his own again, and he could speak. 

That morning was different. The slightly bright spot in the middle of his vision had given way overnight to shadows and light. It had cleared a little, and even though everything was intensely blurry, he could at least make out light and dark if they were large enough. Chasing the sensation of sight, he felt his way to the window and gazed up at the morning light. He blinked against the brightness, reassuring himself that he could indeed see something, even if he didn't know what that something was. The darkness was finally beginning to recede.

It took him several minutes to figure out how to open the window. He delighted in sticking his head out to drink in the sensation of light. It was such a thrilling feeling, and he tried his best to work out what anything was based on his half-remembered knowledge of the house itself. Ace's voice interrupted his happiness.

"Oi, Charlie, what're you doing? Be careful, will you? You'll bloody fall out if yer not careful!" 

A hand was soon on his shoulder, pulling him carefully back inside. He had forgotten they were on the first floor, and it would've been quite a nasty fall. Perhaps he shouldn't do that until he could see more. "Ace, where are you?" 

Ace moved in front of him, taking his hands to reassure him. "I'm here, Charlie. What's wrong? You alright?"

Carl grinned broadly as he reached a hand to touch Ace's cheek with little hesitation. "Saw yer shadow. I can see again! It's not much more than light and dark, but Ace, oh, Ace, I can _see!_ "

Ace matched his grin and brought him into a tight hug. "Oh, that's brilliant! I was hoping you'd start seeing again. That's amazing!" 

"I feel so much better, Ace. Things are going to get better, and soon I'll be alright. I can't believe this even happened. I thought I'd be like that forever," Carl said.

"No way, man. I'd have figured out a way to help you eventually. I wasn't going to let you stay like that, not if I could help it. I found you in the Lore that first time. I bothered to go and find you because I didn't think anyone else would fucking bother. So I went, and I offered to help. I knew it had to be something to do with the wolf. I'm so glad we fixed it. I'm so glad you're gonna be alright," Ace said.

Carl kissed him out of sheer joy.


	8. Chapter 8

The rest of the stay in Hungerford hadn't been very eventful. They had stayed there a month, taking the time to recuperate and rest before they dared tackle the rest of the journey. Roy had made one more visit to see the fates, making sure he was doing the right thing, even if he didn't really want to be getting involved again. They had given him a bearing for the wolves, but nothing more. Roy would have to find them on his own.

As for the rest of the time, they'd scavenged everything they could possibly find a use for in the town and the surrounding farms. Winter would be upon them soon, and Trevor insisted they needed to prepare for that while they had a chance. Food would be harder to find, and it was likely to be dark, wet, miserable, and cold the whole time. Half the reason they stayed in Hungerford as long as they had was because neither Trevor nor Roy wanted to face the winter that was slowly creeping in. As much as Roy wanted to keep moving, the thought he'd have to leave a good, safe, secure, and warm place behind was not a happy one. They delayed as much as they could, busying themselves with preparations to keep them from thinking about how awful it would be once they started again.

Every day, they would go out scavenging, and spend some time sorting through everything they'd gathered. They were using a first floor room in the pub to keep all their supplies in, giving them space to figure out what they would really need for the journey ahead. The routine was a welcome change from trudging around all the time. No one was looking forward to leaving.

They argued for days over how much food to take from the kitchens and gardens. They'd stockpiled enough non-perishable food to keep them going for at least a month, but anything else they could take from the kitchens would come in handy. Trevor wanted to take the chickens, or at least a couple of them, but Roy wasn't sure they could properly care for them while on the road. Roy wanted more of the meat, but Trevor wasn't sure they could keep it all fresh. The limited space in the cart was valuable real estate, and they had to be very choosy about what they took with them, because they couldn't realistically take it all. 

What they had agreed on was several large bottles of fresh drinking water, along with a gas cooker and a spare bottle of gas. Warm clothes for winter and wet weather gear were included by default; they would be needed more than anything else, and had been gathered from what they had originally brought with them, and what they'd found around the town that fit them and was still good to use. Their bedrolls had been padded out with extra blankets and tarpaulins to stop them getting wet if they needed to sleep rough. They had another two tents, though they hoped very much they wouldn't have to use them. Roy had been talked into stopping at farm houses as they went along, instead of trying to find a spare house in the towns they were passing through. They'd found fresh vehicle tracks in their scavenging forays, leading Roy to suspect the military were patrolling near where they were staying. Avoiding towns as they moved might not be a bad idea, and they might find better supplies and wood fires in the farmhouses that they might not find in the houses in town. 

It had taken two weeks to decide what to take, and another three days to get it all packed up properly. Trevor had won with regards to the chickens, and three of them sat in a cage tucked at the back of the cart, making it easy to get at them if they needed to carry them. There had been some bags of feed in a shed out the back, and they had been taken as well to ensure they could still feed the chickens. All the preserved meat had been taken, though the rest had been left behind. Any vegetables that could last a while, such as pumpkins, potatoes, and carrots, had been taken, though the rest had been left behind because they couldn't figure out how to keep them fresh. Other assorted things such as oats, powdered and sterilised milk, cereals, and cracker biscuits had also been taken, just for some variety, as well as anything else that would last the journey. A few selected bottles of alcohol had also been taken. It was the best compromise between a diet of tinned food, and what fresh food could be used to supplement that diet and negate the feeling that they were just eating out of tins the whole time. 

Everything else had been carefully chosen to give them the most benefit, such as pots and pans for cooking, utensils, spare equipment and tools, and anything else that might come in handy that they couldn't bear to leave behind. A couple of bags of good dry firewood were also packed in case they needed it. With the constant rain, it was hard to find good wood to light a fire with, and sometimes, it was the only warmth they had. This close to winter, they were not going to go without a fire if they could help it. 

It was raining the day they left. Everyone was miserable. No one wanted to leave, but Roy pushed them on, insisting the pendulum was telling them to keep moving. Getting to the werewolves was the whole point of the journey. They couldn't just stop halfway there. They had to push on. 

Roy had made a note of all the farms they were likely to pass along the way. They kept to the bitumen, not wanting to risk trampling through muddy fields, as they took the A48 down to Newbury. They passed through the town, just to see what condition it was in, but it had suffered significantly more damage than Hungerford, so they passed through it and made their way to a small farmstead outside the town, planning to stay overnight to get out of the rain.

The bull was still with them, and was still pulling the cart laden with supplies with no complaint. Rarely speaking, he would graze the fields when they stopped, and silently take the cart when they moved on. Brum found him fascinating, but as much as he tried to make friends with the bull, it went unnoticed. Brum was a little sad, but perhaps Trevor had been right that the bull wasn't there to be their friend.

* * *

As November came to an end, winter closed in with a menacing ferocity. The rain did not let up. The days were getting shorter, leaving them less time to walk. After seeing more fresh tyre tracks heading towards Amesbury, presumably more military patrols, Roy finally caved and decided they were just going to walk between farmhouses to keep out of the sight of anyone who might be driving around on the main roads. 

It was slow going. The roads were not always sealed, and it made it hard to make significant progress, but in spite of this, they still managed to cover significant ground while still having good, warm places to sleep and, occasionally, good kitchens to prepare food in. They didn't pick up much in the way of food in the houses they stayed in, but they did get a few extra bags of firewood, and the chickens were always allowed to scratch around in the dirt wherever they stopped. They didn't produce many eggs, but they didn't need many, either. The bull seemed to keep watch over them, ensuring they didn't run away.

Three days into December, they slowly trudged into what was left of Shaftesbury, tired, cold, and covered in mud. They needed to scavenge again, and they both decided it was safe enough, at least for a few nights, since they hadn't seen any more tyre tracks around. As they walked through the town, they looked for somewhere to stay. All the houses were either not safe, or destroyed, and there was nowhere to camp. The parks had plenty of fallen trees and other debris, and with the chill in the air closing in on them, neither Roy nor Trevor actually wanted to sleep out like that anyway. After checking most of the town, the only building that still looked watertight was St James' Church, on the outskirts of Shaftesbury. With nowhere else to go, it would become their base for the next few days. 

The church was freezing cold and made of stone, but at least it was dry. After changing out of their dirty clothes, they made their beds in the vestry, hoping it would be slightly warmer than a vast room of cold stone. There was still no power, leaving them to set up the small portable cooker in order to make dinner. It added some warmth to the small room, and made them feel less like they'd just been out in the icy rain for six hours. 

The vestry had a bag full of blankets, and they were gratefully piled onto their bedrolls to stave off the chill as they settled down to sleep. Brum even asked for one, as the cold night air was chilling his engine too much. It had become too hard to start his engine when morning came, and he didn't like that one bit. But with a blanket wrapped around him, he rested beside Roy and Trevor, unable to sleep.

Brum didn't know why he couldn't sleep. He was tired. His wheels hurt from the travelling, and he was tired of the mud and the rain and the utter cold. But no matter how long he tried to sleep, he just could do it. He was so very far from home. He had some so very far for such a little car. Home was not a pleasant thought either. He'd done so well not to think about it for the past two weeks, but right then, it was all too much. A great sadness came over him, and he did not know if it would ever go away. Roy and Trevor were all he had left. No one else would take care of him. No one else would let him go on adventures, or watch him race around and help people. No one but Roy and Trevor. 

There was a shrill cry, and Brum turned his headlamps on, pointing them in the direction of the noise. He heard nothing else, and nothing seemed to be visible. Maybe it was outside. As he thought about maybe going out to see if they were alright, a loud clap of thunder rumbled across the sky. The windows shook. Brum shivered under the blanket, feeling frightened and alone.

* * *

"No, I don't want to go. I'm tired of travelling. I'm cold and lonely and sad and I haven't got a home anymore. I just can't do this anymore."

Brum had finally hit his limit. He had not slept at all since they'd reached Shaftesbury, and he was sick and tired of travelling. He remained in the entrance of the church, his brakes on hard, refusing to move. 

Roy came and sat on the step nearby. "You think we don't want to stop too? You think I've enjoyed walking all this bloody way? We've got to keep moving."

"But we don't even know if the werewolves are even alive. We could be going all this way for nothing," Brum insisted.

Roy was beyond caring that no one seemed to believe what he was doing. "The pendulum doesn't lie, Brum. It just doesn't. If it's telling me where they are, they're still alive. You do want to see them again, don't you? You could see old Charlie again. You liked him, didn't you?"

Brum hesitated. "I did like Charlie. But what if it takes us another year to find them? I'm not sure I could bear that. I just want to stop. I want to stop travelling and just stop. I just want to stop. I don't want to travel anymore."

Roy looked back at Trevor. "Could we get him in the cart? I ain't leaving him here on his own, so if he won't come with us, we'll get him in the back. I know Charlie'd want to see him again. It might help him recover, if he still needs it. You remember how much better he was when he had Brum with him."

"I suppose we could if we repacked the cart. It's not like it was packed to the brim to begin with. How'd you like that, hey, Brum? You could travel in the back there, go to sleep, and we'll wake you when we're there. Then you wouldn't have to travel," Trevor said.

"Oh, like when we went in that tiny thin boat? I slept in there quite well. Yes. I suppose that would do. I could stay in the cart, and you could wake me when we get to Charlie," Brum said, moving forward a little.

"Well, we might wake you every now and then, just to make sure you're alright, but yeah, that's what we'll do," Trevor said.

Brum did like that idea. The thought that he could just sleep in the cart the rest of the way was comforting. He might sleep better then, if he didn't have to drive everywhere all over again. He was so tired of doing that.

Moving forward, he left the sanctuary of the church and drove to where the cart was waiting. The bull stood ready to take the load, waiting patiently for them to set off. Brum was already asleep when he was packed into the cart, surrounded by all their supplies and safe under a tarpaulin. He felt a small jerk as the cart pulled off, but allowed himself to drift off to sleep. Roy and Trevor walked beside the bull as they took to the road. 

Trevor gestured at the cart. "Think he'll be alright in there?" 

"Oh, leave him be. He's just a little one. He's been through so much, Trev. I'm not surprised he's not coping. I'm surprised he lasted this long, to be honest. Maybe we'll give him some time to deal with that when we find the wolves," Roy said.

"Maybe. I hope he will be alright. I don't want to be the one who broke Brum, y'know," Trevor said.

"Hey, they started it when they burnt down the bloody city," Roy countered.

Trevor wasn't willing to fight him over it. "I really don't care right now."

* * *

The first sign of life Bev, Ace, and Carl were aware of came several days into December. Driving down to Penzance, they came over a crest of a hill and saw a snaking convoy of what looked like military vehicles, making their way through the streets. Bev pulled over as soon as he saw them, hiding the van in a side street, hoping they weren't visible from the road. 

"Hey, what's wrong? Why'd you stop?" Ace asked.

"Soldiers. Driving around down there. They might've started patrolling down here at last. We'd better stay here in case they come back this way. I don't want them knowing we're here," Bev said.

Without the engine running, everything was silent. Everyone froze then as they heard the convoy approaching. Everyone ducked down as much as they could, hoping they wouldn't be seen if the convoy happened to start patrolling the streets. When the convoy drove past them and kept on going, moving slowly away from them, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Only when they couldn't hear them anymore did they dare sit up again. 

"They are gone, aren't they? We're not in trouble?" Carl said. He was especially distressed, as his vision was still somewhat spotty, and he wasn't able to discern much bar vague dark shapes, even though the darkness had finally dissipated. 

"Yeah, they're gone. For now, anyway. Who knows how long before we see them again?" Bev said. "Stay here a moment, I want to go check to see if there are any more patrols about. If we're lucky, we might be able to snake our way back without being seen."

Bev hoped they were alone. He hoped the patrol was a once-off. Sneaking down the road, he came to the intersection, and peered carefully around the corner down the hill. He couldn't see much from that angle, but he also couldn't hear anything either. It didn't mean they were safe. It was entirely possible they were stopped somewhere and watching to see if anyone showed up. Bev dared to cross the road, hoping he might get a better look from the other side. 

It was there that he saw the other patrol. It wasn't coming towards them, but it was down at the far intersection, and there seemed to be more hardware than Bev was comfortable with. He didn't like the implied threat in the large group of armoured vehicles camped down in what was left of Penzance. Their only hope, it seemed, might be to take the back streets as much as they could and creep back slowly. They could leave the van for now, and come back for it later. His decision made, he crossed back and ran over to the van. 

"Get out. We're going to have to leg it back to the house. I don't trust them not to notice a van. We can hide more easily on foot," Bev said.

"Fuck those bastards," Ace muttered as he helped Carl get out. 

Bev grabbed some rope from the back and tied Carl to both he and Ace. He didn't want to lose either of them, and it might be the only way they'll stay together. Bev took Carl's hand, squeezing it gently. "Alright, Charlie?" 

Carl nodded. "Just keep hanging on to me. I'll be alright."

"Let's go."

* * *

It hadn't seemed like such a long distance to walk before they'd left the van. But they'd been walking for an hour now, sneaking in and out of fields, paddocks, and the occasional bit of woodland, and they were still nowhere near home. Bev insisted they don't take a direct route, leaving them to make their own way back without much help to guide them.

An hour and a half later, they stopped in a small village to take a rest, hiding out in a shed in someone's backyard. The house attached to it had some clean water and some old stale cracker biscuits. It was eagerly devoured to keep them going until they got back home again. 

Just as they were about to leave, they heard the convoy again. This time, there was gunfire. Carl panicked, unable to see where the shots might be coming from. It took Ace and Bev several minutes to calm him down, though it was hard when the gunfire was getting closer. 

"Leg it out the back. Come on, I don't want to get caught in that," Ace urged.

Bev couldn't think of a reason to stay, and with that, they kicked a couple of boards away and snuck out as quickly as they could. Slipping down the bank through the back gate, they crept along the edge of the river until they came to a bridge. Hiding underneath it, they kept silent and waited, catching their breath. They were hiding blind again, but the bridge offered somewhat more protection than a wooden shed. 

It was the unmistakable smell of smoke that told them all they needed to know. Another place was burning, and if they didn't move, they might get caught under a collapsing bridge. As silently as they could, they crossed to the other side of the river, a task not made easier by the fact they were all tied together with rope. There was enough slack in it that they weren't really close together, but the current was weak, enough to make things difficult, dragging them apart as they tried to cross as quickly as possible. Bev was the strongest swimmer, and he did his best to help the other two make it to the other side. Once Ace and Bev finally dragged Carl out of the water, they took a moment to rest before they began following the river, hoping it would take them away from the village. They tried to ignore how cold they currently were as they went along, hoping they wouldn't freeze to death before they got back home again.

* * *

It was well into the night when they finally made it home. It had taken them longer than they'd planned because Ace had insisted on stopping at the next town to light a fire and get themselves dry. He could feel Carl shivering beside him, and he was chilled to the bone himself, and he had a feeling they might not make it back alive if they kept on going. Finding the closest house that was still in one piece, they went inside and got a fire going in the front room, making sure the curtains were shut in case anyone happened to see them. 

Bev went looking for food while Ace and Carl went to find something to hang their clothes on while they dried and some blankets. There was a drying rack in the laundry, and plenty of blankets in the linen closet. Bringing them back to the front room, they began to undress as they lay their clothes out to dry. Bev returned with hot sweet tea and some fruit cake. It wasn't much, but it would keep them going. No one spoke as they stood by the fire, blankets wrapped around them, as they tried to warm up. 

An hour later, when they finally felt like they weren't going to die of hypothermia, they ransacked the house in case there was some extra warm weather gear around. They found some dry socks, scarves, and beanies, as well as two warm jackets, two pairs of Wellington boots, and a pair of hiking boots. It was not quite enough to go around, and Bev volunteered to go into the neighbouring houses to see if there was anything else they could find. Their house in Sennen didn't have a lot of cold weather gear, and now that the winter was beginning to set it, they felt horribly unprepared. 

Ace kept Carl company while Bev was out scavenging by describing the wallpaper in the house. Carl couldn't see it, but the images in his head from Ace's descriptions just made him laugh, and it stopped him thinking about the cold. Carl still wasn't entirely comfortable being blind, but he was getting used to it, and he hoped that it wouldn't last for much longer. He was alright when he was with either Ace or Bev, but on his own, he was insecure and scared, unsure how to navigate his surroundings properly. Being in a new place, even for a few hours, made him scared, and Ace wasn't going to leave him alone. Huddling together, they warmed each other up, wondering if it might not be such a bad idea to stay overnight to give their clothes a good chance of drying out properly.

Bev wouldn't let them stay long, though. When he returned, he had enough warm gear for them all, as well as some more food to keep them going. None of them wanted to go back out into the cold, but Bev didn't want them to stay. Someone might see the smoke from the fire and come looking for them. Not wanting to be discovered, they all got dressed, ate some more to make sure they had enough energy to get going, and headed back out into the cold again, rope tied around them once more to keep them together.

They walked another three hours in the rain. No one wanted to stop in case they lost all the heat they'd brought with them from the fire. All they wanted to do was get home and take a long, hot bath, and eat a big meal. 

Everything was still thankfully intact when they got home at last, but it was impossible to tell if the soldiers had driven through here or not in the time they'd been gone. The pattern of burning wasn't making much sense either. They'd seen some other burnt villages and towns in their travels, but it didn't seem to be sequential. It was as if their names were being pulled out at random and being burnt. It didn't comfort them in the slightest, because they couldn't predict how long they'd be safe. The uncertainty kept them on edge all the time, wondering when they'd wake up one morning to find soldiers bashing down their front door.

When they'd first discovered the burning, Bev had made sure they had a backup plan if they ever needed to flee and escape. They weren't particularly close to anything out at Land's End, but a nearby cove had provided a decent sea-worthy boat that might get them back around across the Channel and over to France. Not at all ideal, but it was a way out, and that was the most important thing. They were not perfect sailors, but Bev had insisted they had to go out in the boat a few times, just so they would be able to get to safety if they had to flee. It was tedious and tiresome, and they still weren't very good at sailing it, but they all understood how important it was that they master it to the best of their ability. If things got really dangerous, it would be their only way to safety, and their success depended on their skill. Otherwise, they'd drown in the sea before they ever found France.

They were all grateful to be back home. The rope that bound them together had done its job perfectly. No one had been left behind, and all were grateful when Bev cut them all free. Carl reached for Ace's hand as they went to the front room to get the heat going again. They weren't as wet as they might've been had they stayed in their wet clothes, but they were still cold and wet from the rain. They stood in front of the fire for a moment before Bev broke the silence.

"If I were you, I'd get out of those clothes and into something warm. I'll go make some supper," Bev said.

"We might have a hot bath while we're at it, yeah? Is that gonna be a problem?" Ace asked.

"You go ahead. I'll do the same later. Right now, all I want to do is eat," Bev said.

Taking Carl by the hand, Ace led him from the fire, eager to spend some time alone with him as he got him warmed up.

* * *

Carl was happy to be out of his stiff clothes. They were damp, and clung to his body stubbornly. He sat on the edge of the bed as Ace helped him undress. Carl could still sort of do it himself, but it was better when Ace was there to help him keep his balance. He was still shivering slightly as Ace finally rid him of his clothes. 

"So, what exactly happened? It's still not really clear in my head. What were the soldiers doing?" Carl said.

Ace glanced at him as he undressed, pulling his shirt off over his head. "We came over a hill and saw the military convoy. We pulled over and hid the van, but Bev decided it was better to escape on foot. So that's what we did. We got to this little village and took refuge in one of the sheds. The house provided the water and the crackers, remember? Only we weren't safe there either because them soldiers were there, shooting up the whole place. We bloody fled down to the river and followed it along till we found a bridge. You know they were burning it, yeah? So we kept going, we found a house to stay in for a while to dry off - that was the one with the horrid wallpaper, remember?, and once we had some new dry clothes and some food, we set off. It took us another few hours to get back home."

"Why are they burning everything? That makes no sense to me," Carl said.

Ace shrugged. "I reckon they're trying to destroy any bodies still left there. Y'know, avoid contamination and the like. Weird way to do it, but." He shoved his trousers away and a shiver went up his spine as the cool air met his skin. "C'mon, bath time."

Ace took Carl's hands and brought him to his feet. They made their way to the bathroom and ran a bath, filling it with warm water. They got in together; Carl appreciated having Ace with him so he didn't drown himself by accident or whack his head as he tried to get out. Sitting behind him, Ace held him close, trying to warm them both up.

"God that feels great," Ace murmured. 

Carl sighed happily. It was good to feel warm again. "I didn't think it would be so scary being on the run like that. I could barely make out where we were going. Without the rope and you and Bev to guide me, I'm sure I'd have got lost and killed. Thanks. I really mean that. You're the reason I got out of there."

Ace pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder. "I'd do it again. I'd make sure you got out in one piece. No one gets left behind, not even you."

Carefully, Carl turned around to face him, and he could've sworn he could almost make out the colour of his skin as he gazed at his face. He reached for his cheek and brought him close, eyes searching for any semblance of detail. If he squinted, he could just make out the blue of his eyes. 

Ace held him close, reassuring him he was there. It was still strange to think that Carl just could not see, even though he didn't look any different. Actually, he looked remarkably different. Ever since he'd been changed back after they'd defeated the zombie dragon, Ace had had to get used to seeing Bev and Carl looking incredibly young. Ace kept getting older, and older, but Bev and Carl looked just like they had back in 1967. They were still forty years older, but their bodies did not reflect this at all. 

As they sat there together, Ace ran a hand down his arm, his fingers drawn to the scars slicing across the skin. It had been the wound that had given Carl the curse all those many years ago, and they still looked as raw and ugly as ever. He felt Carl shiver as he drew a finger softly over them.

"Don't - Ace, please," Carl whispered.

Ace moved his hand away. "Sorry. I didn't know you didn't want them touched."

Carl brushed him off. "No, no, it's just - I don't like the reminder. I don't like being reminded of what I did to you. What do your scars look like anyway? I never saw them."

Slowly, Ace brought Carl's hand down to his left leg to feel the scars running across it. Carl closed his eyes as he touched the scars, feeling the pain coming from them. 

"That's what your wolf did to me. He was about to kill me, but he just did that and fled. And I got meself cursed," Ace said.

Carl carefully moved his fingers along each scar, seeing just how long they each were. Ace shivered a little at the sensations. They weren't uncomfortable, but they weren't sensual either. That is, they weren't until Carl's hand moved a little closer to his groin than Ace was expecting. He didn't want to stop him, but he didn't really know how the two of them would relate now that Carl wasn't being ruled by the wolf so much. 

"What are you doing?" Ace murmured, wondering where this might be going. He didn't want to disappoint him, but he wasn't sure he'd get much out of it if Carl wanted to fuck him. His libido was usually low to non-existent most of the time he wasn't transformed, or in the few hours after a transformation when the werewolf's libido was still fresh in his bloodstream. 

"I just - I wanted to see if you-"

Carl fell silent, and Ace let his hands wander some more as they moved close together. There was a small surge of arousal as Carl closed a hand around his cock, but he knew it wasn't enough to get him hard. Only the werewolf seemed able to give him that. It didn't help that he could see Carl's erection through the water as he touched and stroked him. That it wasn't doing anything for him made him feel ashamed. 

"It's not that I don't like you, Charlie, but my body doesn't work the way yours does. I just - I can't without the werewolf. Most of the time I just can't feel it," Ace said as he noticed Carl's frustrated expression. "I'm an old man, Charlie. I'm nearly sixty one years old. Don't forget that, alright?"

Carl looked disappointed as he stopped trying to get him hard. His own erection was beginning to get uncomfortable, but maybe he'd just have to take care of that himself. He'd just wanted to share that pleasure with Ace, but maybe it wasn't to be. 

"I wish you could. I - he might be willing to share, but if you can't - but doesn't it drive you mad, not being able to?" Carl said.

Ace shrugged. "It's been this way most of my life. I'm used to it. What I'm not used to is the erections I get after transformations. Now those are the best I've ever had. It's a pity they don't last. I mean, once we've done our - y'know, it's all over. No more till next month."

Carl moved towards him, taking his hands in his. "Promise me you'll be mine next time, then. I want to apologise for being territorial before, while the wolf was - but he's protective of his mate, and I couldn't stop him. If it's the only time you can - I wouldn't want to stop you. I don't want you to miss out. Because sex makes it much better than being on your own."

"I know, I fucked Bev once, and that was amazing. But I'm used to not having that anymore, so I don't want you to worry about me. I'm allowed to worry about you, though, and if you need me to help take care of things every now and then, I will, even if I get nothing out of it. I promised I'd take care of you, even before this happened. This is why I have the wolf. You needed a companion, someone to love you and care for you. Someone who's willing to help you, no matter what. I know from the Lore that you and Bev are mates, and I'd never presume to come between you, but just know I'm there if you need me, even for sex, if you absolutely need it and Bev's not willing to help," Ace said, holding him close.

"I - thank you. The wolf - he is scared of it, but he doesn't hate you. He wouldn't have sired you the way he did if he hadn't wanted it. You and your wolf are a gift to him. Come to the Lore again soon. He misses you," Carl said.

Ace kissed him. "I will, I promise."

Once they were done in the bath, and suitably warm and amiable, Ace helped Carl get out and they headed back to the bedroom to dress. Carl was still aroused, and Ace didn't mind getting him off so it wasn't bothering him for the moment before they dressed and headed downstairs to eat with Bev.


	9. Chapter 9

It was as they were stealing down to Exeter to scavenge that they began to realise things were beginning to change. It wasn't ordinary people they saw, but soldiers. A small patrol was making its way through Exeter, causing both Roy and Trevor to flee, hoping they could find somewhere safe to hide and that they hadn't been seen. Thankfully, they'd left the cart back at their last campsite, and it was hidden enough that it would be unlikely to be discovered, not if that bull was protecting it.

The soldiers marched down the street towards them, backed by a small armoured vehicle and a tank. It took a moment for Roy to realise that they were checking every house on the street to see if anyone was inside. 

"They could storm the place. What do we do?" Roy whispered.

Trevor looked around. There were many obvious hiding places. Instead, he pulled Roy out to the back and into the shed. Someone had dug an excellent hide, concealed below a trap door, giving them even more cover. It was not entirely spacious either, but it was all they could manage to find as the soldiers came near the house and began their search.

It was hard to hear what was going on, bar a few shouted orders and doors banging around. Then suddenly there was a rain of bullets creating a cacophony as the shed was shot to pieces. Hidden below it, Roy clung to Trevor, his heart beating rapidly. They had been moments away from being shot. Things were definitely going to get more dangerous from now on.

Neither moved for over an hour once the firing stopped and it sounded like the soldiers had moved on. It took the two of them to lift up the trap door and find enough of a space to crawl out back into the yard. No one seemed to be waiting for them, which Roy thought was pleasant. At least they hadn't suspected them of being there to begin with. Perhaps they'd been shooting at every shed, just in case. It did seem like a good place to hide if soldiers came barging into your house. That thought didn't particularly comfort them, though.

Brushing themselves off, they kept low, and tried to find the safest way out of the city. Scavenging, it seemed, was over for the day, and maybe for the rest of their time here. They might be preparing to burn it down, in which case, they'd probably be better off leaving sooner rather than later.

Gathering what they had managed to save, they slipped back onto the street and slowly made their way back to their camp. They did not see any soldiers. But as they looked back at Exeter, they noticed the docks were now on fire. 

Roy cursed. Trevor grabbed his arm and pulled him onwards. They weren't safe until they were back with the bull.

* * *

Roy was not at all pleased to find Exeter being burnt to the ground. Their progress southwards was troubling him. He was quite out of touch with what they were up to, being unable to spy on them anymore. Not knowing was frustrating them no end. If he'd known where they were heading, he might've planned out a different route. Maybe they could've avoided being shot at.

Their near-miss in Exeter hadn't been the first either. The day they'd left Dunkeswell, five days earlier, had resulted in another near-miss. They had stayed in a farmhouse outside the town centre, not wanting to be seen. They had been seeing fresh tyre tracks all over the place, and Roy had a feeling they were about to walk into a trap. Roy's fears were realised as they took the road south from Dunkeswell, skirting around the airport. Neither he nor Trevor had realised it was a military base until they found they were being shot at as they passed by. All they could do was run as fast as they could and hope to the Gods they wouldn't be followed. They hadn't been able to relax until they found another place to stay far, far away from the town they'd left. It had not been a good omen, and Roy was shattered once they finally stopped. They hadn't been shot, but there were a few stray bullets in the cart, damaging one bottle of fresh water, and a few tins of food. One of the chickens had also been killed, sending the other chickens into a panicked frenzy. 

Neither he nor Trevor spoke much once they were safely back at their camp. Roy wouldn't have known what to say anyway. What was there to say? He knew what it meant. By the look on Trevor's face, he knew what it meant just as much as he did. 

Trevor sat down beside him as they warmed themselves around the small fire the dared light and offered him a bottle of vodka. "Thought you might need a nip or two, yeah?"

"Thanks." 

Roy managed a smile as he reached for it. He wasn't necessarily one to drink his problems away, but his nerves were shot to pieces. Vodka might not particularly help with that affliction, but it might just distract him enough that he could forget about it for a while. 

Silence occupied the night air. Roy gazed at the flame, lost in thought. The bottle slowly passed between them. It was a third empty by the time Trevor spoke.

"So where do we go from here? I'm assuming we're going to have to give Exeter a wide berth now, yeah?"

Roy took a slow, deep breath. He felt that was about right, but he really didn't have the capacity to care at that very moment. "We'll check tomorrow. We might be able to see where they've gone and steer clear of them."

Trevor looked at him and pointed, wearing an expression of someone who'd just had the most amazing idea in the world. "Hey. Hey, Roy. Can that fancy pendulum of yours track those fuckers? Because we might need to know where they are now if they've started moving around down here."

Roy reached into a pocket, and then another, trying to find the lodestone. He eventually located it in the inside pocket, where it had been pressing against his skin the whole time. He stifled a laugh as he took it out. "Grab me a map, will ya? I need to check."

Trevor got up on unsteady legs. He managed to make it to the cart and pull out a map of the area from amongst all the other maps they'd collected since they left Birmingham. He handed the map over as he sat down.

Roy unfolded it and lay it down before him, pinning it down with a couple of rocks, the bottle of vodka, and a stick. He squinted a little to attempt to clear his vision before taking the pendulum in hand. He didn't normally use it when he'd been drinking, so he wasn't sure if it would give him good readings, or just laugh at him to keep him safe until he was in a better state to deal with the correct information. It had done that before. He hoped it wouldn't do it again. 

With a deep breath, he dangled the pendulum over the map and attempted to concentrate. The soldiers they were seeking weren't known to the lodestone, and required more information in order to lock on to them. Roy did the best he could. Eventually, the pendulum began swinging. It indicated they were both close by, and heading the same way they were meant to be going. 

Roy threw the pendulum down, annoyed. "Bollocks."

"Are we in trouble?" Trevor asked.

"We're gonna have to start travelling at night again, I reckon. Too easy to be seen out here, not if they're just going to tail us the whole way. I'm almost tempted to head back the other way till they're gone, but that might prove useless. They've probably got Bristol anyway. I doubt we'd do any better up there. What do you think we should do?"

Trevor shrugged. "Dunno. That's why I asked you. You're the one with all the mystical powers, after all."

Roy ignored his last remark, and decided he didn't have the energy to get offended by it anymore. He was silent for a moment. He pulled out his cards and began shuffling. "Don't know if they'll help, but it's worth a shot. Might at least help me figure out if we're better off staying a while and seeing what happens, or going while we can."

Trevor watched, fascinated, as Roy shuffled the cards and lay five of them down on top of the map. He didn't look especially pleased with the result, but Trevor had rarely seen Roy pleased by the news the cards gave him. "So, stay or go?"

"Stay. We might run into them if we go too soon. They're not necessarily saying we'll avoid them completely either, but we'd best be careful from now on. No leaving a trail for them to find. I think that also means no fires either. They'd see fresh fire activity as a sign there were people roaming about. No, we can't do fires anymore," Roy said.

"Bollocks." Trevor thought a moment. "So, we stay a little while longer, see if they're still heading our way, and maybe make off somewhere once we know that, then?" 

"Yeah, something like that. Ask me in the morning when I'm not pissed," Roy said.

"I will, if I remember. So does that mean it's bedtime?"

Roy yawned. "I, um - probably. I know we're secluded here, but we've still got the fire going. They'd see the smoke for sure. I think we can only use that portable gas cooker and torches from now on. If we run out of gas before we find the others, so be it. Maybe we'll find another by then. That's the best we can do for now."

"Hey, why are we avoiding the soldiers anyway? Like, I know they're just doing what they've been told to do, but why are you so fucking paranoid about them?" 

Roy glanced over at him. "They fucking shot at us. What other reason do you need?" 

"Yeah, I know that. But they didn't know they were shooting at us. Did they? I swear I heard 'em shooting next door to us as well. Maybe they were just doing that everywhere, y'know, just in case," Trevor said.

Roy shot him a look. "Yeah, shooting up sheds just in case someone's hiding in there. Shoot first, burn the bodies later. Can't you understand what just happened? If they went around searching every house and firing aimlessly at sheds in case there was someone in there, doesn't that convince you they won't hesitate to shoot us if they see us out there?"

Trevor's shoulders slumped. "Yeah, I suppose so."

"I told you those emergency powers were dangerous. Never let a democratic government enact emergency laws. It's a recipe for tyranny," Roy said as he took another swig of vodka.

"I thought we'd got rid of all this bullshit. I really thought - but it's all the fucking same. I don't think anything's changed at all since we were kids. How can it still be this terrible? How could we have been an apocalypse away from this shit? It's just-"

Trevor stopped. Roy wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "I know, I know. I feel just as betrayed as you do."

They slept side-by-side that night, arms and blankets wrapped tightly around each other.

* * *

The next few days were tense. They had been forced into an even more spartan way of living than they were used to at a time when what they really needed was a good fire and good food and a warm place to stay. It left them utterly miserable, dealing with the cold, dark, and wet days that never lasted long enough, and Trevor was secretly glad Brum wasn't awake to see the arguments. They were getting on each other's nerves too much, but they couldn't leave or they'd be seen, and neither felt particularly keen to go it alone. 

The threat of the military patrols was enough to enforce it, though. Living in such miserable conditions was all they could do to avoid being seen by any military patrols that might be in the area. Being caught by soldiers felt like a fate infinitely worse than what they were living in, and it had to be that way, or they'd never have put up with it. They'd been camped there in a drafty barn on a farm outside Exeter for four days now, and they'd seen just as many patrols. None came near them, but it didn't make either of them happy. 

"I really hate this weather," Trevor muttered as it began to rain. 

It had been raining almost constantly for the past month, and that, coupled with the biting cold and the depressingly short days had made them both miserable. The only benefit of all the walking was that it had left them both too tired to argue about it anymore.

Roy glanced over at him. " _You_ bloody hate it?"

"I swear, if it wasn't for that barn, I'd have frozen to death by now," Trevor said

"At least we've got chickens, some vegetables, and a basic stovetop. We'd be stupid not to use it while we've got it," Roy said.

"You're killing them chickens, just so we're clear. I ain't doing it," Trevor said, nodding his head for emphasis. "It's them beady little eyes. I just can't look at 'em."

Roy shrugged. It wasn't that much of an issue for him. He'd done it before, in a few towns where they'd happened to find chickens scratching around. His technique wasn't perfect, but he could kill, pluck, and prepare a chicken with a basic level of competency. It was one of the few skills he'd picked up since they'd started travelling that he was relatively proud of. When you couldn't just go down the shop to get fresh food, you made do with what made itself available to you, and if that was a chicken wandering around, so be it. It was better than starving.

"I'll make us a curry. I still got some of that powder from - wherever it was we picked that up," Roy said.

"Halstock, wasn't it? Didn't we scavenge a corner shop there, and they had all them spices?" Trevor asked. "That's all I remember about Halstock, anyway."

Roy shrugged. "That might be it. Doesn't really matter."

There was silence as a low trembling growl of thunder rolled across the sky above them, followed soon after by a flash of lightning. They both gazed up at the ceiling, hoping it would hold. 

"What are the odds that those wolves are hiding out at Land's End? That's where I'd go if I wanted isolated," Trevor said.

"Could be. It's pointing down that way at any rate. They're probably down there somewhere. God knows how they got down there so fast, though. It's taken us, what, three months now? Four?"

"I lost count of the days after Amesbury. I thought you were counting anyway," Trevor said.

Roy hadn't been counting. He had been crossing the days off on the calendar, but that didn't mean he was counting the days. If he was being honest, he hadn't really wanted to think about how long it had been. "It's been a long time, at any rate. They've been gone most of that time. But maybe they went there during the full moon. Bev said those wolves can travel immense distances. Maybe that's how they got there," Roy said.

"Maybe. I'll be glad to see them again, though. I've missed them," Trevor said.

"Me too. At least we're getting closer. We won't wake Brum till we get there, alright? I don't want him getting in trouble. He's easier to hide this way," Roy said.

Trevor nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. Don't get me wrong, I like him, but it's much easier travelling without him getting in the way all the time."

Roy brushed him off. "Nah, he weren't getting in the way. It was more... He was never quite as fast as us. We've covered more ground this way."

"That's true. That's helped us get away from those soldiers," Trevor conceded.

"It's less conspicuous not having a yellow car driving around with us. We can camouflage ourselves more easily this way," Roy said.

Trevor turned to him, a decisive look on his face. "So, make a decision, Roy. When the hell are we leaving?"

Roy sighed. "Best make it tonight, or tomorrow morning, I think. We're just wasting time here now. I'd really prefer to get moving. The sooner we find those wolves, the better."

Trevor didn't disagree. "Make it tomorrow. I want one last attempt at a decent night's sleep."

Roy nodded. "Deal. But we're leaving early, so don't stay up half the night if you can avoid it. I want to keep pushing us as far as we can manage. If we can get to 10 miles a day, I'd be happy. We need to make quick work of this last leg or we'll risk being caught."

Trevor could already feel the pain in his feet and legs, but there was nothing else to do. They had to keep moving. "Alright. We'll push on. We really have to, don't we?"

"Yeah, we do. There's not much land left, and we're going to have to be careful where we go and what traces we leave behind. If I knew we could survive without the cart, I'd probably leave it behind, but that's not possible, so we're just going to have to travel carefully and make sure we don't get caught," Roy said.

* * *

Dawn came far too soon for Trevor's liking. Roy hadn't slept, or so he'd said. From what it looked like, he'd spent the rest of the night reading his cards and using the pendulum and a pair of dice to seek out the best possible route that would keep them as clear of danger as possible. The route was marked in red, tracing a thick line down to Land's End.

Sitting down beside him, breakfast nestled in his lap, Trevor blinked at the map, not looking forward to how far they still had to go. "Morning, I think."

Roy yawned as he looked over at him. "It's morning." He didn't look too pleased about it, though. He indicated the red line marked out on the map in front of him. "That's where we're going. Safest route I could find. Not saying we won't meet any soldiers, but that's the safest route. We're going tomorrow, though. I ain't going off no sleep at all. Even I know my limits. Ten mile on no sleep will probably kill me. I really am getting too old for this, y'know."

Trevor smiled and shook his head, unsurprised. "That'd be right. I got up this early for nothing."

Roy brushed him off. "Nah, you didn't. We can take some time to prepare, and I'll sleep. Make sure we've got enough provisions for at least a fortnight, and get anything extra you can find lying around the place. We're going to need anything and everything we can spare. I can't guarantee we'll be stopping for anything other than a kip."

Trevor's expression turned serious. "Is it that bad, then?" 

Roy nodded. "I want to get there as quickly as possible. The sooner we're with the wolves, the better. There's trouble coming and I don't want to get caught up in it. We've nearly been shot twice in the past week or so. I'm not taking any chances, not anymore. The cards say we'll be safe if we're with the wolves by the next full moon. If we're late, there's nothing they can do. So we're going to have to push on for ten mile days, maybe longer if we're falling behind. We haven't got much time."

"We couldn't ask that bull to pull us in the cart, could we? Or would that look too suspicious?" Trevor asked.

"Too suspicious. I don't want us drawing attention to ourselves. We have to keep to the roads because the cart won't travel fast enough through the fields. I think we might have to start travelling at night again. I don't want us to be seen at all," Roy said.

Trevor heard enough fear in his voice to understand the threat was real enough. "If I find a truck, would that help? I'm sure I remember seeing one around here somewhere. That would be much quicker."

"Not unless it's got a full tank. We can't refuel out there. I don't want to refuel if we can avoid it," Roy said.

"You sleep. I'll wrangle us a truck. We could be down there in a few hours if we could drive. That fast enough for you?" Trevor said.

Roy wasn't entirely confident he could do it, but he was willing to let him try. A truck would get them down there much faster than walking, and he was eager not to waste any more time. Giving Trevor permission to go look for a truck, Roy settled down to sleep, hoping Trevor would come through with the goods.

* * *

By the time Roy woke, it was nearly dusk. He went out to prepare the cart only to find what looked like an old army truck waiting for him. Roy blinked. He had not expected he would actually follow through. Trevor finished packing the last of their supplies and came round to greet him. He was followed by a very excitable Brum, who had been woken at last. 

"Roy! Roy it's me! Look, Trevor found us a truck!" Brum said as he drove up to him. 

"Yeah, I can see that. Where on earth did you find that?" Roy asked. 

"Ah, well, that would be telling, wouldn't it? Come on, it's got a full tank and everything, and I managed to scab some Army uniforms. You wanted camouflage, right?" Trevor said, a smug look on his face. 

Roy looked both overjoyed and horrified. "You didn't-" 

Trevor reassured him. "Oh, no, nothing like that. I ain't that daft. Look, just trust me, alright? It's fine. And I didn't hurt anyone to get them."

Roy felt somewhat relieved. "Alright, let's get going now. Oh, where's the bull, anyway?" 

"Oh, he said he'd guide us and watch out for trouble. He'll go all glowy again like he did when we first met him. He's a powerful spirit, you know. Said he could take out a tank if he had a fair go at it. I'm convinced," Trevor said.

Roy took a deep breath, satisfied. "Well, we'd better get going then."

"That's the spirit." Trevor threw him a uniform. "Go on, get into that, and we'll get going."

Roy didn't waste any time. As soon as they were dressed, and Brum was safely concealed in the back, they set off, following the glowing bull down the road.

* * *

It took just over an hour and a quarter to finish the journey, and they pulled into Sennen just as night was properly setting in. Still, the pendulum hadn't given them a specific address, just this town. It might be small, but that didn't mean it would be obvious. But as they drove down the main street, they saw a house with lights on in the front room. Unable to think where else they could possibly be, they pulled up across the road, glad to have finished their journey at long last. 

The glowing bull bowed his head to them before leaving them alone. He'd found some cows that needed protecting, and wanted to be with his kind. He would still take care of his charges, but for now, he wanted to look after the cows.

"If that's not them, I'm trading this pendulum in for a proper one," Roy said.

"You might want to ditch the uniform though. Don't want to scare them any more than necessary," Trevor said as he threw his camo shirt into the truck. 

"Oh, yeah, good idea."

Uniforms ditched, they grabbed Brum out from the back of the car, and approached the house. It was a nice enough two storey house, with a nice garden all around it. It also looked like it had been taken care of, another good sign they'd hit the right house. With only a moment's hesitation, Trevor knocked on the door. 

"Oi, have I got me some wolves in there?" 

There were hushed voices before a face appeared in the window. Trevor waved as he saw Bev looking out at him. 

"Hey! You gonna let us in? It's really late, and we're bloody tired," Trev said.

It didn't take much longer for the door to open, and Bev, Carl and Ace were ushering them all inside. Brum was so excited to see the rest of his friends, even though he was in a house again, and he honked his horn in delight. His winder spun with joy, and Brum hadn't felt this happy in what felt like a very long time. His headlamps were bright and beaming, and Carl could've sworn Brum was actually smiling at him as he went to greet him.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" Bev asked, pulling Roy into a tight hug. "I thought you were stuck in the camps."

"I ain't stupid enough for that. We left the camps same as you did, and we were staying in my old house. Knew better than to go to the camps when they came calling. But it got too hot to stay. Birmingham's burnt to the ground. God, it's a bloody mess out there. We walked most of the way, you know. We didn't have any other way of travelling, and we didn't even know where you were," Roy said.

"You've got to tell us everything that's been going on. We've only just begun seeing soldiers down here, but I didn't know they'd burnt down Birmingham. That's awful," Bev said.

"Bollocks. They burnt down Birmingham? What a pack of wankers. I mean, how fucking cruel can you get? Burning down our home? What pricks," Ace cursed. 

"They bloody did. It was awful," Trevor said. "We escaped in time to watch it burn. I ain't seen nothing so horrid in me life."

"Is it silly of me to ask why Brum's with you?" Bev asked.

"He found us, back when we were hiding out. I think he got spooked when the museum got evacuated, and I guess he didn't know who else to turn to. He's travelled with us all the way here," Roy said.

"I did, I came all the way from the big city! I've lost my home, I did, and I couldn't think of any other friends who might still be alright, so I went to find Roy and he took me with him. I saw the city burn. I was so sad, but I couldn't go back. I was so frightened. It's been such a long journey, and I'm so tired. But I am glad to see you at last. I have missed you all," Brum said.

Carl knelt down beside him. "I missed you too."

"Oh, you can talk properly again! Oh, Charlie, that's wonderful! You'll have to tell me all about it. I want to know everything. I'm so glad you're alright," Brum said excitedly.

* * *

It took another quarter of an hour for everyone to unpack the truck they'd come in and gather in the front room. Coffee was made and a proper supper was produced. It was the happiest night they'd had in a long time, and they were willing to make it last as long as possible.

They talked long into the night about everything that had been going on. They swapped stories about the soldiers, near misses, and walking halfway across the UK. Brum was far too excited to sleep, and he spent a lot of time talking to Carl, wanting to know how he'd got better. Carl still didn't have perfect vision, but he could get around almost on his own now, able to see well enough to get by. He suspected he'd become somewhat short-sighted, but he couldn't tell if that was just residual blur, or a change in his vision. He hoped it was the former. 

Roy and Trevor were suitably impressed by the house they were living in. They seemed to be almost entirely self-sufficient, which Roy thought was an excellent stroke of luck, given what had happened. It might not be such an uncomfortable exile after all, if this was the living standard. Roy was particularly pleased by their back-up plan to take a boat to the Continent if things got too dangerous where they were. Being trapped in the most far-flung place he could get to was easier to cope with once he knew he had an escape route. 

Seeing Carl and Bev again, Roy and Trevor were reminded at how young they appeared to be. It was still a strange thing to see, and they'd almost forgotten all about it in the time they'd been apart. Neither Carl nor Bev had any explanation as to why it was that way, and if they hadn't been so keen on staying away from everyone else, they might've talked more about what to do about it. Bev only insisted they talk about it in case they had to flee to France across the Channel, where it could be an issue if they settled there long enough. 

They couldn't claim to be who they were while they looked that young, not when they still had all their old memories in their heads. But no one really knew what else to do if it ever came to be a problem. They'd half decided that, if pushed, they'd just change the year they were born so they were only 30, but it didn't solve everything. They'd have to be very careful about what they talked about if they were ever around other people again, because talking about what things were like back when they were kids in the 40s and 50s probably wouldn't be wise, and might just get them into serious trouble. 

It was the most serious conversation of the evening, and once they'd become bored of it, they decided they'd think about it more properly if it ever became necessary, and returned to catching up. Trading stories till dawn was a much more entertaining way to spend the night. They slept where they fell, once exhaustion overcame everyone at about 4am. Brum had settled beside a doorway. Trevor and Ace curled up together on the sofa. Carl and Bev had made a bed on the floor, while Roy was squashed into the armchair. It was not particularly comfortable for anyone, but no one was awake enough to protest.

* * *

Roy found himself awake just before dawn. His body was stiff and aching from the uncomfortable sleeping position, and he almost fell as he got to his feet. Something was bothering him. As he got up, he saw what looked like headlights in the distance as he looked between a couple of buildings. But no - it couldn't be. Could they have tracked the vehicle they'd nicked? He very much hoped they hadn't.

He went outside, if only to get a better look. He couldn't hear them, and they looked so far away they might not even be coming their way. A moment later, he saw them turn away from the town and head back north again. For the moment at least, they were safe. He didn't like it though. He knew they'd probably get to the town eventually. He'd have to think of a way to deal with them if they came and found them. He decided to go talk to the bull to see if he'd be of any help. He didn't know what a guardian spirit away from their home was meant to do.

The bull had found his way to the paddocks where the cows were. They were all sitting down, sleeping. Roy almost didn't approach, but he did like the bull, in his own gruff way. Roy carefully went over to him, and sat down in front of him, reaching out a hand to touch the bull's body in order to hear its voice.

The bull opened an eye to look at him. ' _Is everything alright?_ '

Roy glanced back at where he'd seen the lights. "I dunno. I know those soldiers are going to come here eventually. I'm not sure they won't just come through and shoot up every house like they've done in the other towns we've been caught in. Is there anything we can do to protect ourselves?"

The bull closed his eye for a moment. 'I have nothing else to protect now. I will watch over you.'

The bull fell silent again, and Roy wasn't sure if their conversation was over. As he went to get up, the bull sent one last message. 

' _If I were you, I'd get some sleep. You are going to need it._ '

Roy feared as much. He said goodbye to the bull and returned to the house. Instead of going back to the armchair, he went upstairs to find a bed. There, he slept much more soundly.

* * *

It was well after midday when everyone finally woke. Glad to be together again, Roy indulged in as close to a proper English breakfast as he could manage. The two chickens Roy and Trevor had left had laid a few eggs overnight, but they didn't have any bacon except for the few cans of Spam left in the truck that Roy and Trevor had in their stocks. There were no sausages either, as they'd all been eaten. The wolves had fled to this part of the world so quickly that there was a lot of salvageable food in freezers that had kept them going on top of any animals the wolves killed for them when they were transformed. 

Roy wasn't sure he was happy with the idea of the werewolves actively hunting food for them, but they all still seemed to be alive, so he found it hard to complain. They'd learnt butchery skills just as Roy had learnt to kill and prepare chickens. 

They ate out on the deck, and watched Brum driving happily around the yard. He was so happy to be back with Carl, and Roy suspected it had lifted his mood considerably. Brum had been really low, and Roy had been quite worried about his state of mind, given everything he'd been through. He made a mental note to go talk to him at some point, but not right now. Not when he was having fun chasing butterflies.

Roy was very impressed with the back garden. They would eat well, if that was anything to go by, and he'd miss it if he was forced to leave it too soon. It was peaceful, though. The faint crash of the waves did carry through the air towards them, even though they couldn't see the sea. Every now and then, though, Roy was sure he'd heard a helicopter in the distance. It wasn't coming anywhere near them, but that wasn't the point. If the military were patrolling from the air as well, they'd have a much harder time of it if they needed to get away. Perhaps they should move that truck before it's spotted. As he looked over at Trevor, he noticed the same thought had occurred to him. 

"I'll go move the truck, yeah? Ditch it somewhere else," Trevor said hastily. "I can hear them choppers too."

"Good idea. Don't be too long, if you can help it, and be careful," Roy said.

Trevor nodded. "Done, and done. If I'm not back in an hour, come and find me. Or, consider me shot dead or something. Either way, I might need help, yeah?" 

Roy watched him go, hoping he'd be alright. He was not at all happy about this. "I don't like this. It's getting dangerous out here. They'll find us one day, I'm sure of it. I'm sure they won't let us stay here. They'll want us back with the others. I think we'd better find ourselves some weapons so they can't do that."

Bev looked over at him. "You think it'll come down to that?" 

Roy nodded. "They'll be here sooner or later. There's no chance they won't look here. They've been looking everywhere else. Shooting first. I'd say that warrants finding our own protection. We've got the bull, but better safe than sorry." 

Bev looked confused. "The bull? What bull?"

"Oh, you know that daft bronze statue of a bull that used to be in the Bullring back home? Turned out it had a guardian spirit in it. He was looking after Birmingham, but not even he could stop them burning it. He led us to safety, and now he's in the paddock with the cows. He said he'll protect us," Roy said.

"Oh, right. Well, that'll be useful, I suppose. Still, maybe you're right. Time to go scavenging for proper weapons, I think. This is the country after all. I'm sure there are plenty of guns and ammo out here," Bev said. When Roy looked confused, he added, "We didn't find any bodies, so we assumed everyone fled, rather than hung about killing zombies."

"Ahh, right." Yes, that made sense to Roy. "So what do we do in the meantime? Sleep, drink, and eat the rest of our lives away?"

"That is seriously about it around here. We milk the cows, tend to the garden, and that's about it, really. Sometimes we go out scavenging, but we don't like straying too far, because we don't want to be caught. We're aware that the military won't take too kindly to werewolves on top of zombies, and why should they, after what happened? We figure we're safer away from everyone else," Bev said.

"Did you two seriously walk all the way from Birmingham? Why? You've gone daft, you have," Ace said.

Roy shrugged. "Like I said, how else were we going to get there? All I had with me was maps and me pendulum. Didn't get a good idea of where you were until three weeks ago. Until then we were just trying to keep going in the right direction. Still, it got us here, though I'm tempted to bury it and my cards and never pick them up again. Fraudulent Mediums Act is still law, you know. If they're so afraid of us telling the truth, they clearly believe the damn things work. Search me why they keep calling it fraudulent. Perhaps they don't want anyone to know they work."

"Oh, man, are you serious? I remember when that act came into law back in '51. That is so weird. I thought they'd have repealed it years ago. Politicians are paranoid bastards, aren't they?" Bev said.

"Yeah, they're using it to outlaw any form of divination or mediumship, fraudulent or otherwise. Jail terms, apparently, if yer caught. It ain't fair, but what can you do?" Roy said.

Bev shook his head, unable to believe they'd still be afraid of something no one had ever actually proved was real. "I still think that's weird, and I don't even believe it's all real. Though if you managed to find us just using that pendulum, then perhaps it works better than I'd thought. You sure we didn't tell you where we were going? I'm sure I told my wolf to leave you some signs as we went," Bev said.

"No, you just buggered off one night and we didn't know where you'd gone. It was the only way we were going to find you, what with the systems all down and we couldn't just call you to find out where you were. Even I'm surprised it got us all the way there. We didn't see any signs, though, so maybe we went a different way or something," Roy said.

"I'm sure we went dead south. Where'd you go then?" Bev said.

"We left from Sutton and went out to Hopwas. We went around from there, keeping a south-west bearing. That's literally all I had to go on. The pendulum gave me south-west, so that's the direction we went in. But maybe we missed the route you took and even if there were signs, we never saw them," Roy said.

"Hmm, yeah, I think we went more west than that. We never went anywhere near Hopwas," Bev said. "I still can't believe that pendulum got you here, though."

"Me neither. I mean, I couldn't think of a reason why it wouldn't work in this way, and the damn thing's always been pretty good for me, but I must admit I did sometimes think I was going to end up leading us over the edge of the cliffs at Dover. It proved me wrong, though. It was more accurate than I expected. I usually prefer the cards for accuracy, but maybe I was wrong," Roy said.

"Maybe they're just suited to different questions or something," Bev said, still sceptical.

"Maybe." Roy had heard of that before. "Still, I wouldn't dare do any divination out in public anymore. I mean, I never really did before, but even more so now that it's illegal."

Bev shook his head. "Paranoid fuckers."


	10. Chapter 10

Extra beds had been scavenged from a couple of houses down the road to make room for Roy and Trevor. It was a little squashy, but at least they were all together again. Trevor was sharing Ace's room, and Roy took the final spare room once Bev moved in with Carl. Brum had found a good spot to sleep at night downstairs, hiding under the stairs in a warm cupboard. He felt safe there, and it made the nightmares not as bad as they could be.

It had been three weeks since they'd arrived, and Brum was troubled. He had been quite happy for the first week or so. He had enjoyed talking with Carl again, and he'd been able to forget about all the bad things in his head for once. He'd actually felt happy, something he hadn't expected he would feel ever again.

But it had not lasted. As the excitement wore off, his happiness seemed to fade. The rest of the household weren't as happy either, and without that excitement to feed off, Brum found himself slipping into sadness again. He was not feeling himself, and his headlamps were dimmer than usual. It had got so bad that he did not even feel like exploring. He just wanted to stay in his cupboard. 

Brum had not wanted to think about all the bad things he'd been through. He was too excited to see his old friends, for one, and they weren't pleasant, for another. He had trouble conceiving of just how far they'd come since they'd left Birmingham. His world had been so very small before, and now it was beyond his comprehension. That they were even near Land's End made him nervous. He was at the very farthest part of the land, so very far away from everyone he used to love. It was not an easy thing to accept. 

He didn't like that he wasn't allowed out much either. He could hear the planes and helicopters and cars just like they could, but it didn't bring him any comfort. He ached to go driving again, to just go out and explore the new place he was now in, but no one would let him. He didn't like it at all, but the prospect of being shot at again was not one he wanted to repeat.

He hadn't even noticed it at first. He wasn't even sure how he'd been shot either. All he knew was that he now had a bullet hole in one of his doors, and the shell lay on the floor, forgotten, for so very long until Roy had seen it there. He had heard about the shootings from them, and it made him scared. He knew he did not have the courage to face down soldiers wanting to shoot him. 

He still didn't really know what to do though. He was feeling restless and afraid, and he didn't know how to talk about it. He'd had all these horrible dreams; he didn't know how to deal with them either. He had no words for what he was going through, so he just didn't mention it, and pretended he was fine. He would drive around the back yard with Trevor, and play hide and go seek with Ace and Bev, and sometimes, he'd stay up talking with Carl. But he wouldn't mention the nightmares. 

But it wasn't something he could sustain. He woke one morning feeling incredibly overcome with grief. His winder would not wind, and his engine felt like it was twisted back on itself so much he had been turned inside out. It was all too much. His mask came crumbling down, and all the sadness he'd been trying to forget came to his attention again. It was so overwhelming, the only thing he could think of to do was power down his engine and go to sleep. Maybe forever, maybe only for a while. He didn't know. He had no idea what was wrong with him, but he hurt, and he was sad, and he didn't know what to do. Maybe things would be better when he woke up.

* * *

It wasn't until Roy appeared with the guns that they realised he had been serious about having a way to defend themselves. He'd gone scavenging around the town and found four shotguns, two rifles, and a selection of pistols, along with a small but mixed selection of ammunition. It might not be a large hoard, but it might be enough to defend themselves, at least for a while, if they needed to.

It took three days to figure out how to use the guns properly, without wasting all their shots. No one had ever actually used a gun before, and with no one to teach them, they were left to figure it out for themselves. They weren't particularly accurate, either, but after a lot of practice, they had got to the point where they could at least fire a gun without flinching or panicking. Roy hated the recoil on one of the rifles, which had left a nasty bruise on his shoulder. He found himself preferring one of the pistols instead, which he found easier to carry with him and fire.

No one liked that they had to be armed, but as they'd scouted around the countryside, they'd noticed an increase in burning. The smell of smoke was always present in the air now, and everyone was worried that soon it would be their turn. No one was pretending they'd be left alone anymore. One day, the soldiers would come, and they needed to be prepared for that. They stockpiled anything and everything they could find that might be useful. They went scavenging for more weapons and other forms of protection, as well as anything else that might be useful in such a situation. The house was becoming a fortress, a way of protecting themselves from the encroaching threat, and it left everyone on edge.

Brum didn't like any of this, not at all. He didn't like guns, and he didn't like how scared his friends were. He couldn't defend himself either, and he worried he'd be left behind if they had to leave. He felt he'd just slow them down. Even though he was constantly reassured they would take him with them if they had to leave, he still felt like they'd be better off without him. He wasn't useful to them as a small car, not anymore. No, there was no dragon to make him a properly sized car so he could take his friends with him as they fled. Feeling restless and trapped, Brum was left to fret on his own, worried that when the soldiers came, he would be abandoned in a place far from home and left to fend for himself. It terrified him so much, he kept dreaming about it, and while it stopped him dreaming about the burning city, replacing one set of nightmares with another was not really much better.

* * *

Even though Roy had been expecting the dragon to call on them again once they were all together, it was still a shock to wake up one morning to find the red dragon calmly waiting on their doorstep for them. Not quite awake enough to form a coherent response, there was a moment where he just stared at the dragon before remembering his manners and inviting him inside. 

The dragon bowed to him as it followed him to the front room. Roy wondered what their new job would be. He knew there was a new task waiting for them, and he was half afraid it would end up with them all dying bloody deaths, but he didn't say that as he stood near the dragon. 

"Go, call the others. I must speak with you all," the dragon said.

"Oh, right. Yes. Just a moment," Roy replied.

Ace and Trevor weren't quite awake yet either, and they didn't appreciate being woken for a bloody dragon, but they did finally come downstairs with Roy, Bev, and Carl and saw the dragon for themselves. Brum also joined them, driving out of his spot under the stairs to find the dragon in the room with them. It was the strangest sight any of them had ever seen, seeing the red dragon sitting down on the carpet in the front room, just waiting for them. Brum backed off, not wanting to get too close to it. 

"Fuck me. I thought you were just lying, Woody, when you said there was a dragon," Trevor said.

"Nope, there he is. Got something to tell us, or so he says," Roy said. "Uh, take a seat, if you want. This might take a while."

The dragon waited for them to get comfortable before addressing them. "I don't know if Roy has told you anything, but I am the same dragon you met in Cardiff Castle a few months ago. The Universe chose you then, and you are being called on again. The long, cold winter is coming, and you may be able to stop it before it sets in for decades. That is why I call on you now."

Roy sighed. "I knew it was something to do with that. What do you want us to do? Stage some sort of rebellion or something? How are we meant to fight the system as it stands now? I'm afraid it's too entrenched to make it possible to stop all this pain now."

The dragon glared at him. "You are too cynical. You have admitted defeat before you have even tried. Rebellion is a last resort. I am aware there are only a small number of you. That would be asking too much. But there is still a time to act. You may not know it until it comes, but there will come a time when you will know you must act, or stand defeated. If midwinter comes and you still have not recognised the time to act, then all is lost. I am not permitted to tell you anything more about that."

Bev did not look impressed. "Y'know, if there's one thing I hate about prophesy, it's how bloody vague it is. Go on, tell me something useful. You'll get nowhere with us talking in riddles."

Bev received an even more withering look from the dragon than the one Roy had been given. The dragon straightened, not looking impressed at the men standing before him. Slowly blinking, he returned to the task at hand.

"Very well. You want plain English? Fine. These are the stakes. The truth must be told before midwinter or the system will become too entrenched to remove. You, as survivors, know the truth of what happened. Your voices are needed. If they are ever silenced, all is lost. Do not underestimate the enormity of the task. I have never pretended this will be easy. You are all tired and old, and I can understand that you are tired of the fight. But the Universe chose you, and you cannot unchoose yourselves now. The responsibility lies with you. You can stop this before it gets bad, and perhaps things will be better in a decade. Fail, and this could go on for much longer. The land and her people will be badly damaged, and the wounds much deeper. The healing process will require much more strength than necessary if it is not stopped early. The fates will not say whether they have seen your success or failure; even if they had, I doubt I would be permitted to tell you anyway. It may be that the power you face may be too much for even your voices to defeat. I cannot say. But I would rather you try and fail than not try at all. Promise me you will not be silent. Promise me you will try to limit the damage this will inflict, if not for your own sakes, then for the sake of every other survivor out there. That is why you stopped the apocalypse before, was it not? So the others would not suffer anymore?" the dragon said.

Roy shook his head in disbelief. "I think I'd rather take the boat to France. Trying to fight all that seems pointless. I'd rather live, thank you very much. Besides, I already told you I'm done being the hero. Find someone else."

The dragon pointed a claw at him. "And I told you your fate was set in stone. Avoidance will make things worse. I cannot help you if you do not try to do what is being asked of you."

"And I never said I wanted your bloody help anyway!" Roy said.

The dragon got to his feet. "I have done my best. The information has been delivered. It is up to you to act, or not, to fight, or admit defeat. I will see you again."

"Good riddance, you poncy reptile," Roy murmured as the dragon turned and left them alone, vanishing into the air. He crossed his arms, irritated.

"I don't know what your problem with that dragon is," Ace commented as he saw Roy scowling out the window. "You never know. We might make a difference, after all."

Roy laughed, and it was the most depressed laugh he'd ever had. He felt terribly outnumbered and trapped in a net of predestination he had never wanted in the first place. "We are going to be crushed, I can just feel it. All the truth in the world will not convince those who do not want to be convinced. They are too traumatised from the apocalypse to want to listen to the truth."

Brum did not like his words, and he stared at the ground, feeling helpless. He didn't know how to make things better, and he didn't know how to stop being sad. The dragon had not made things any better, and Brum wished he had never met him at all.

* * *

The radio inexplicably began working one day in February, broadcasting the BBC from one end of the UK to the other. It wasn't much more than emergency broadcasts and news bulletins, but it did mean systems were beginning to come back online. They still didn't have mains power, but they didn't really want it. Roy was still sure they'd be monitoring the networks for any spikes outside of the camps, and they'd use it to track down anyone else who hadn't been gathered up. 

The news was the most interesting part of the broadcasts. They ran every half an hour from 7am to 9pm, with hourly bulletins after that. None of them could've imagined the sort of things that could be found in a news bulletin after a zombie apocalypse, but they were all pleasantly surprised at the vast amount of content, and alarmed at what wasn't being said.

All the survivors had been rounded up and put into camps around what used to be the second city. Birmingham was the new capital, because London was considered too dangerous. The plague had been borne by the sea and by the rivers, according to the Government, and everyone was being cautioned to stay well away. Specific areas had become restricted areas where it was forbidden for anyone to go. A 10-mile exclusion zone existed around the entire coastline. They were even going so far as to issue identification cards and set up checkpoints to make sure everyone stayed where they were, safe in the camps. 

They had begun to repopulate the city about two months after the camps had been set up, but their progress had been slower than they'd planned because the work to refurbish and repair houses was taking longer than expected. By early October, when it was clear winter was setting in and it would be irresponsible to keep everyone in the camps, the repopulating had become necessary, and any house that was still standing was given to the people as temporary accommodation during the winter. By that time, there was just enough of the electricity grid online to keep everyone safe and warm. It had been intended to be only a temporary measure to make sure the survivors survived the winter, but once given a house to live in, no one really wanted to give it up again, so those in charge decided to let them have them, and began putting in place the systems and institutions required to kick-start society again. Food aid from abroad was keeping everyone fed while they developed their own food supplies, and it was only because of the military that it was being distributed as efficiently as it was. The military was the greatest organisational presence on the ground, keeping everyone safe and fed. 

The radio informed them of food rationing and work requirements, talked vaguely about the governance structures in place – most of these were military personnel, and kept reminding everyone about what emergency powers were still in force. There were short bulletins about the plague, as well as where to go for information. There were a few calls for teachers as schools were set up to teach the children that were left. There was even a short piece by a woman with a calming voice who reassured the listeners that while military rule was in place, it would not be there forever, and once the city was back up and running again, they would organise elections and ask for candidate nominations to form the first democratic parliamentary government since the plague annihilated most of the population. 

Roy was alarmed enough that they were saying any of that publicly at all. What he didn't like was what was missing. Before they'd fled, Roy and Trevor had overheard secret plans for the new society they were going to build. It had left Roy feeling very worried, and he didn't know what he could do about it, apart from run away and escape from their clutches. 

Part of the problem was that the only people who really knew what had happened when the apocalypse came were all gathered in this one house in Sennen. No one else knew what had happened. They all believed the Government line about a plague, and reacted accordingly. Roy didn't like it at all. It spelt big trouble. 

Every instinct told Roy to run away. The Government was getting too scary and too controlling. Emergency powers had been abused to within an inch of their life, and the only reason Roy knew about it was because he'd heard them talking about it before, when he had a wire to tap. It had frightened him so much he had no hope left that the country would be rebuilt in anything like the state it had been in before. He wanted to shout out and tell the truth, but the courage needed to face down that kind of Government was not in his possession. He felt powerless and afraid, unable to find any hope at all.

* * *

The land looked ghostly, with the light of the full moon shining down on them. The wolves were out, leaving Roy and Trevor alone. Everyone had noticed Brum's absence, but no one felt up to traumatising him further, so they left him alone. They all understood that he'd seen things a little car like him should never have had to see.

"I still think we should talk to him soon. He probably don't even know how to talk about it. Ever think about that? He's just a little car, and the world's changed so much now, and he doesn't know how to deal with it. Surely we could try to help him out," Trevor said as they watched the moonlit land. It was still and silent, and nothing moved at all.

Roy took a moment to reply. "I wouldn't even know where to start with him. It's not like I'm qualified to counsel small cars that have been traumatised by zombies."

Trevor shrugged. "Mate, no one is. But we're all he's got left now. Surely we've got some sort of responsibility to help him with this."

Before Roy could reply, he heard Brum quietly drive up beside them. Roy looked down at him, wondering how he was. 

"Hello, Roy. Hello, Trevor. I-I'm sorry for hiding away. I kept seeing bad things, bad things that scared me," Brum said quietly. 

Roy sat down beside him. "Bet you've been feeling really sad, haven't you?" 

Brum dipped his headlamps. They still weren't as bright as they used to be. "I have been feeling sad, yes. I don't know why. I lost my home, Roy. I did! And now I'm so very far from home, and it keeps getting more dangerous. I have a hole in my door where someone shot me! Who would want to shoot at me? I'm just a little car who likes having adventures. Why would anyone want to hurt me?"

Roy touched his bonnet, trying to reassure him. "I dunno why someone'd shoot at you. Horrid thing to do, in my opinion. I can't even remember when it might've happened."

"The only time I can think of might've been when we were leaving Dunkeswell. There was an airbase there, and I reckon we got too close. They did shoot at us then, even though it wasn't really that ferocious. They felt more like warning shots," Trevor said.

"Oh, yeah, they did. That might've been it. That's right. I was up ahead, wasn't I? I do remember gunshot, now that I think about it. All I really remember is getting as far away from that place as we could," Roy said.

"Yeah, that was it. You buggered off ahead, and left me to guide the cart. We got shot at, and it was only because I was walking behind the bull that I managed to escape. Strong as steel, that one. I even saw some bullets ricochetting off his body as we walked along. I don't think we actually checked to see if Brum was shot at though, not when we were far enough away to check. Those chickens were more of a priority, if I remember correctly," Trevor said.

"Yes, I remember that. Bloody chickens. Not that I blame them. I'd be like that too if that happened to me. Good thing they only got one. Those two have come in handy," Roy said.

Brum did not like the sound of that. Being shot at was scary indeed, and he was glad he hadn't been awake to have seen it. "Shooting at people is bad. I hope that doesn't happen to us again. I thought soldiers were meant to protect people. Why would they be shooting at us?"

Trevor shrugged. Roy shook his head, unsure. 

"Things aren't good, kid. That's all I know," Roy confessed. 

There was silence, then. No one wanted to speak. Trevor leant against Roy. They were both exhausted. Brum tried to fight off the bad images in his head. 

"I don't want to keep dreaming of bad things, Roy. Can't you make it stop?" Brum said after a while.

Roy looked over at him. "What kind of bad things are you seeing? Were you having nightmares?"

Brum seemed to shrink back, as if he knew what Roy meant. "I shut my engine down and go to sleep, and I see bad things. I see the fire. I see all those horrible broken houses. I hear the gunfire. I think, sometimes, I hear screaming too." He paused a moment. "And I keep seeing the zombies. I keep seeing all those bodies, all those people who died at the castle, and it frightens me. And sometimes I see faces there of people I know and I get scared and sad. What do I do? Why can't I be happy, Roy? Why am I always so sad? I want to be happy again, but I don't know how. Everything's all dark and frightening now."

The sadness and fear in his voice broke Roy's heart. No little car like him should have to go through a zombie apocalypse and see his home being burnt down. "It's what happens to people when bad things happen. I feel sad thinking about the fire too. It does go away, but it takes a while. It's hard to be happy when there's not much to be happy about. We all lost our homes too, lad. I know what that pain feels like."

"I'm never going to see my old home again, am I? I'm never going to see my old friends. I'm never going to be able to explore the big city ever again. What do I do now? What do I do? You're all I've got now," Brum said.

Roy shook his head sadly. "We're never going home, lad. We can't go home. Trust me, that breaks my heart just as much as it breaks yours. I loved that city. It wasn't perfect, but it was home. It was home, y'know? And they bloody destroyed it. They bloody went and destroyed it."

"I'll never forget that fire as long as I live," Trevor murmured. "They burnt it down like no one would even care. I'm so angry about that."

The sound of a plane engine silenced them as it flew past, albeit in the distance. No one was scared until they heard what sounded suspiciously like a bomb dropping. The earth shook, and the windows rattled, just a little. Roy reached for Trevor's hand as another fell. 

Roy went pale. "Oh, God, no. No, no, no. Not this. They can't be doing this." 

An engine whined closer, and another bomb fell. It was only when they dared look out the window that they saw the ghostly green smoke drifting through the air. 

"What on earth is that?" Trevor whispered.

"Quick, go close all the windows. We need to be airtight. I don't trust that to be safe," Roy said, panic rising in his voice.

* * *

Trevor didn't need to be told twice. They closed up the house as best they could before they made a hasty retreat to the basement with Brum in tow. The house would probably be air-tight enough to keep most of the smoke out, but might still leak a little, but it wouldn't be as bad if they hadn't done so. As Trevor was doing a final check of the house, he saw the werewolves stumbling back towards the house through the smoke. They seemed to be struggling, as if it was hard to breath.

He opened the door only when the wolves were close enough to dash in without letting too much smoke in, and he ushered the wolves down to the basement, closing the door tight. It wasn't a bunker, but it might just keep them alive. The wolves, still in their wolf forms, collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. Trevor and Roy were at their side immediately. 

"W-Wolfsbane. Wolfsbane smoke," Bev managed to whisper. "Water. Please, we need water. And feverfew tea."

Trevor had water to them immediately while Roy bravely ventured upstairs to find the jar of dried feverfew to brew up some tea. Brum stayed with the wolves, hoping they'd be alright. He managed to find Carl, and moved in beside him, making sure he knew he was there. Brum watched as they lay there, barely able to move, lapping up water from Trevor's hands as best they could. 

The water seemed to help a little, as did the relatively clean air, and after a while, the three wolves did sit up a little. Brum backed off, giving them space to breathe. Carl leant heavily against Ace, a paw grasping his throat. Bev was coughing, trying to breathe and expel the horrid poison from his body. A wave of pain travelled through his body every time it heaved, and he was sure he saw shadows dancing on the wall opposite him. 

When Roy brought the large pot of tea down, it was consumed eagerly. No one spoke while the wolves recovered. Roy and Trevor were at least relieved the smoke probably wouldn't harm them, if it was specifically aimed at the wolves. It didn't make it much better, though. 

There was silence as another bomb shook the ground. They all huddled close, hoping they wouldn't get any closer.

"Roy? I'm scared. I'm afraid the soldiers will come again and they'll start shooting here too. I'll go to sleep and wake up to find you all dead. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you too. I don't want to lose more friends. You're all I've got left," Brum said.

"I can't guarantee it won't happen, not if that bombing's anything to go by. I'm pretty sure the soldiers will come by sooner or later, but we have weapons now. We know how to defend ourselves. We'll escape to France if things get too dangerous here. You'd be coming too. I'm not going to leave you here on your own," Roy reassured him.

Brum did like that. He didn't want to be left alone again. Another bomb shook the ground. A wolf was crying, his paws covering his head in fear. Roy began singing old church hymns. Brum wanted very much to be back home where it was safe and warm and he could go on adventures again.

The bombing seemed to go on for hours, though it never seemed to stray very close to them. The dull thudding became depressingly repetitive. The wolves eventually transformed back, but no one dared leave the basement while the bombing was still going on in case they'd sent out other smoke than the wolfsbane. With only a couple of blankets for warmth, they all huddled together in fear, wondering if it wouldn't be a good idea to get out as soon as they could. It was beginning to feel too much like a war.

* * *

Roy was the first to wake. The basement still seemed intact, and he couldn't hear any more bombing. He could, however, hear the distant sound of engines. Afraid they might have spent their last day in the house, Roy went over and woke Trevor. 

"What's wrong? Are we still alive? We didn't get caved in?" Trevor murmured as he turned to see Roy kneeling beside him.

"Get up. Wake the others. Make sure you're all ready to leave. I think the soldiers are coming," Roy said.  
Trevor looked at him, shocked. "No. It can't be. How can you tell?"

"I can hear engines. And - I just got a really bad feeling about this. Make sure you're all armed too. We might need to fight. I'll go see if anyone's coming, alright? Be quick. We might not have much warning before they descend on us," Roy said.

Trevor nodded, acknowledging his words. Roy left him to it as he crept back up the stairs and into the front room. He was relieved the house had not suffered any damage. He hadn't suspected it had, but it was a worry he couldn't shake as he lay there in the basement, listening to the bombs. 

Roy crept over to the front window and peered out. He couldn't see anything, but the sound of engines was beginning to get louder. Finding his pistol, he loaded it, and made sure it was close at hand, in case he needed to shoot. Behind him, as he kept watch, he could hear Trevor and the others emerging from the basement. Turning to see them, he saw them carrying Brum up with them. 

"Is he alright?" Roy asked as Brum was set down in the front room. 

"Dunno. I can't wake him. I'm worried. He's not usually this hard to wake up," Trevor said.

Roy dared to leave the window as he went over to him. Touching his bonnet, he tried to wake him, but there was no response. It was as if he was just an old toy car now. There was no life in him anymore. Roy tried not to get too worried about the mental state of an animated car, and hoped it was just that his engine had malfunctioned and he couldn't wake anyway. 

"What do we do with him?" Trevor asked.

"I dunno. I don't know what's going to happen today. I'd rather not think about him just yet. Maybe he'll wake on his own. Maybe he'd be better off sleeping through it," Roy said.

They returned to the windows, keeping watch for any sign of danger. They still couldn't see any military vehicles, but the sound of engines was still in the air, distant though it was. It didn't seem to be getting closer, but neither Roy nor Trevor wanted to pretend it was going to stay that way.

The land outside them was looking distinctly eerie. A soft mist drifted through the air, contrasting horribly with the thick grey smoke in the distance. Once or twice, Roy thought he'd caught sight of flames in amongst the fire, signalling that they might have begun burning villages nearby. They might not have much time to get away now. 

"What do we do? Should we go outside and see what's happening?" Trevor asked.

"I don't know. I don't know that we won't be seen. It might just draw them to us if they can see us. But I don't like not knowing either," Roy said.

They waited a few more tense minutes. Ace, Carl, and Bev soon joined them, and they all sat vigil by the windows, watching and listening for any sign of trouble. After a while, the sound of engines seemed to disappear. Roy wondered if that was an ominous sign, or if they had been spared for once. He decided he was going outside, just to see if it was still safe. He wanted to be sure they weren't going to be ambushed, and wanted to know for sure that they'd been left alone. The others were to make a run for it if Roy was caught. 

Roy did his best to hide his nerves as he headed out onto the street. It was quiet, a little too quiet, and as a distraction, he headed down towards the fields to see if he could see any of the damage. He was worried the cows might've been killed in the crossfire, cutting off an important source of food. He was glad to find them lying beside the bull. At least they had survived. 

As he began to head back, he heard the sound of engines again. They sounded distant, but with the mist and smoke about, he couldn't see where they might be coming from, or if the sound was being muffled and it was closer than he thought. He took his gun out, just in case he needed it, and cautiously walked back down the street as fast as he could, hoping to hide back in the house again. 

Through the mist, he thought he saw headlights, but it was hard to tell. When the sound got louder, and he saw dark shadows moving closer, he decided it might be a good time to hide. He crossed over to the houses and tried to find somewhere he could get to but everything was locked up or inaccessible, leaving him heading straight back to the house he'd come from. Not wanting to give them away, he kept on going as he saw the convoy of military vehicles coming down the road towards him.

"Oi, you! Stop right there!"

Roy did not want to stop, but the decision was made for him as he was shot in the back of the leg, causing him to trip and fall. The gun fell from his hands, and before he could even think about getting up, the soldiers were all over him. They surrounded him, their guns trained on him. One of the soldiers grasped the back of his shirt and dragged him up. 

"What the fuck are you doing out here? Why aren't you in the camps like everyone else?" the soldier demanded.

Roy was in too much pain to think straight. "I - I really don't ... what are you talking about?" 

Someone slapped his face. "Where'd you get the gun?"

Roy felt he was on the verge of unconsciousness, if he was able to let go enough to pass out. "I - I don't - I found it. I think? What do you want with us? We done nothing wrong. We ain't hurt anyone, I promise." 

Roy was jolted to his feet and held tightly by a couple of soldiers. He was suddenly afraid he'd given his friends away, but he found himself being searched instead. He hoped he'd forgotten to bring his cards and the pendulum with him. He didn't want them finding those. 

The soldier interrogating him grasped his chin tightly. "What do you mean, 'we'? Are there more of you?" 

"I - I didn't mean - I mean, we're not an army, but there are - in the house - another five - but please don't - they're not - we just want to live in peace. We just want to live out here on our own. Don't, please," Roy managed to say, suddenly panicked. He'd pointed out the house in question instinctively. If he'd been less concerned with the pain in his leg, and was more aware of what he was saying, he might've kept silent about it. He wasn't sure they weren't about to be shot, anyway.

Roy was barely aware of an order to invade the house he'd pointed out, and as he drifted in and out of consciousness, he thought he heard screaming and shooting. The last thing he was sure he heard was Ace screaming at someone not to leave Brum behind before he passed out.


	11. Chapter 11

The next several days seemed to blur into utter confusion. All Roy ever remembered was the hospital bed and the chill in the air. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened. One moment, he'd been confronted by soldiers, the next, he found himself in the back of a truck with Ace, Trevor, Carl, and Brum, being taken to ... who knew where? The rocking motion of the truck jarred against the pain in his leg, and he spent the whole journey holding it as still as he could to stop it shattering itself.

"I'm not in any trouble, am I? I don't really remember anything," Roy ventured. There were no soldiers in the back with them, which Roy was thankful for. He wouldn't have dared speak if they'd been present. "All I know is they shot me leg. The rest is ... I don't even know."

"Oh, you didn't miss much. It's been a very dull week," Bev said. "I'm glad you're alright, though. We were worried there for a while after we heard them shoot you. I'm glad it was just your leg, and nothing worse."

Ace nodded. "Yeah, I heard 'em shoot you, and that's when we knew things were going bad. I figured we had three choices. We could flee, fight, or surrender. We didn't have much time to decide, though, before they all came charging in like that. It was chaos, man. They were shouting at us, and threatening to shoot us, and like cowards who hadn't planned to die at that precise moment, we bloody surrendered. Too much firepower. We wouldn't have stood a chance against them. They grabbed us and dragged us outside, and I don't even know I heard what they were going to do with us, but I didn't want them leaving Brum behind neither, so I-"

"Yeah, I heard you screaming for him. Yeah, I remember that. What else happened? Where'd you go? I was so sure we were all about to be shot," Roy said.

Bev nodded in agreement. "So did I. They had us all in the back of a truck, didn't tell us where they were taking us, and we were shit scared. Didn't know where you were either, except for when I saw them carrying you into the back of another truck. Looked like you'd died, and you were half covered in blood. I was so scared to see that. I really thought we were about to be taken out and shot. I still don't really know where they took us. Seemed like they drove around until it was night and then took us to some sort of military base. They took us out, and gave us a meal, and then got us settled in some sort of holding cell. It didn't look like a prison cell, like, I didn't think we were being kept prisoner. It looked more like they didn't have anywhere else to put us. They took Brum away too, and I was so worried we wouldn't get him back." 

Brum's headlamps lit up then, hearing his name being spoken. He'd had a strange few days, filled with odd dreams and bizarre sensations. "I'm so glad you brought me with you. I was so afraid I had been left behind, that I would never see you again. I-I don't have anyone else to look after me. I've seen some strange things, though. I remember them taking me away, but not much after that. It all went dark and cold."

"Well, whatever it was, they fixed the hole in your door," Bev said, trying to be positive.

Brum's expression brightened. "Oh, did they really? Oh, that's wonderful! I didn't like it being there. I just hope they don't shoot me again. I don't like being shot." 

Roy glanced over at him. "Yeah, you and me both, lad."

"They brought him back to us earlier today, when we finally found out we were leaving. I still don't really know where they were keeping us, though. What we saw of the place looked really run down. I reckon they scavenged that too, like it was an old decommissioned base no one had used for fifty years, but after the apocalypse they needed another one, and that was all that was left." Bev shrugged. "Couldn't say how long we were there, though - it felt like it was about a week, but they didn't treat us badly. They just kept us there and made us fill in all these forms. Everyone's got to be registered, apparently. One of 'em, who kept bringing us what little food they could spare, apologised every time for keeping us in a cell. He was the one who told us you were still alive, and that they were waiting till you'd recovered enough to travel again before sending us all back to Birmingham. I'm pretty sure that's where we're going now, though why I don't know. They never said what our fate was, just that we were being taken to Birmingham. We could be going to death camps or out to be shot. I honestly don't know, and that scares me."

Roy considered his words. "I'm betting I'm not the only one who's suspicious of them soldiers even when they're being nice, right? Cos I can't see why they haven't shot us yet."

"I think they nearly did shoot you properly. You'd better be on your best behaviour. They found your cards, the ones you use to divine with. I don't know what punishment they're giving you, but all I know is that you're in trouble for that. We're alright, and I think Charlie managed to convince them we could take care of you at home, but I don't think we'll find out until we get there," Bev said.

Roy scowled. "Bollocks. I did wonder why they'd put this stupid thing on me." He rolled his sleeve back to show a black band around his right wrist with his name and a number printed on it. He sighed. "At this stage, I wouldn't even be surprised it was ten years' hard labour or something daft like that. That's what we're facing, and I wish we'd run away before now. Maybe we wouldn't be in trouble now."

"Don't say that, man. You never know, maybe things will be better than you think," Trevor said, trying to stay positive.

No one really believed him, though. It was enough to silence them as the truck drove on, taking them back to Birmingham, or possibly out to be shot. No one had any desire to speculate further. They were frightened enough as it was.

* * *

The first thing that shocked them when they arrived in Birmingham was the fact that they were back in Birmingham, and they hadn't been shot. 

The second thing that shocked them was that the city hadn't been totally burnt to the ground. Some buildings were conspicuously absent, and there were some areas where everything had been demolished, but much of the city was still standing. 

The third thing that shocked them was that they were not brought to one of the camps that had surrounded the city. Instead, they were driven to a refurbished house in Harbourne. The street seemed to be cleaned up and other people were living there. Roy was somewhat relieved they were beginning to repopulate the city, but he still didn't think that meant things were going to be any better, not if what he'd heard before he'd left was anything to go by. Roy thought the whole situation sounded preposterous, and he decided not to trust anything a soldier said as they were allowed out of the truck and into the open air at last. 

A soldier was there to meet them. He was nothing more than a young boy, probably no more than twenty two, and looked like he'd been given more responsibility than he had really wanted. He watched them nervously as they came up to him, wondering what he wanted. 

"You've all been billeted here for the time being. Try not to wreck the place," the soldier said as he handed over the keys. Roy went to take them, but the soldier stopped him. "Not you, sir. Prisoners are not allowed property rights."

Roy almost fought him over it, but decided now wasn't the moment to fight the system, and backed off. Bev was given the keys instead. 

"So, what's my punishment, then, since I'm the prisoner and all," Roy said, looking at him expectantly. 

The soldier checked his records and then looked back at him. "Two years home detention, plus 20 hours extra work requirements a week. Your friends saved you from a prison sentence. Don't push your luck, alright? One mistake and you'll go straight to prison."

Roy bowed his head, glad that's all he'd got. He still didn't like the fact he'd been charged and convicted anyway, or that he had no memory of it even happening. Perhaps it'd return in time, or maybe that's just how things would be run, now. "So things are getting back to normal again?" 

"Yes, they are. We've provided enough food for a week, but after that, you'll have to get provisions from the markets. Here are your ration books. There are signs to show you where to go. Water's on from 6:30am to 9pm. There's a 10pm curfew," the soldier said.

"Oh that takes me back," Bev said as he took his ration book. He caught himself before he continued, knowing he was older than he appeared. "I mean, my parents lived through this the first time round, y'know. Heard all about how hard it was. Strange to think it'll be my turn now." 

"Yeah, mine too. But hey, we survived the apocalypse, right? This can't be that much worse," Carl said with a hopeful grin, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Don't, man. Don't you even say that," Ace said. "We're totally fucked now. You bloody jinxed it!"

Bev brushed them off as he turned to the soldier again. "So is that everything then?" 

The soldier straightened. "Someone will come around later today and get you registered. No registration, no provisions. You'll be given information about the emergency powers still in place as well, as well as work requirements. Are any of you over 65?"

Ace shook his head and gestured at Trevor. "No, sir. Our Trev ain't even sixty, the bastard."

The soldier made a small note on his checklist. "Then you'll be required to work sixteen hours a week to qualify for payment and provisions. You'll be given more information about this when you're formally registered. " He turned to Roy. "As for you, sir, you'll be required to work thirty six hours a week, and your weekly rations will be dependant on that. Failure to work the required hours will result in military detention and the removal of rations and other privileges. You are being released into the care of your friends. You have been assigned a prison officer, who will be around to check on you every day to ensure you are complying with regulations. You will be required to report, in person, to the closest military check-point with your prison officer once a week to ensure compliance. Failure to pass will result in immediate imprisonment. Do you understand?"

Roy nodded. "Yes, I understand. So are we done now? Can we go inside?"

The soldier managed to glare at Roy in such a way that he merely looked like the boy in uniform that he was. "Yes, sir. That's all for now. Get settled in."

And with that, they were left alone. It was hardly enough to give them a good idea of what they were in for, but it did make them realise things were not going to be the same as they used to be. Once the truck was out of sight, Bev went to unlock the door to their new home.

* * *

There was nothing particularly extraordinary about the house. It was a pretty standard three-bedroom council house, though it looked a little more modern than they were expecting. It was sparsely furnished with the bare minimum of effort, enough to feel like there was nothing essential missing. There were leaflets all over the place describing what was now available to them, and what the rules were for being billeted were. There was rent to pay that would be taken out of their work pay automatically. Roy suspected he wouldn't be getting any work pay, though, unless they were only counting twenty of his work hours as part of his punishment. He might still get something for the other hours if he was lucky.

They had provided enough beds for them, as well, with two beds in each bedroom, as if whoever had been setting up the house had somehow not managed to get the message that Brum was a car and did not need a bed to sleep in. They had even given him his own ration book, though they had at least had the sense to ration him things he would actually need, such as tyres, bolts, and a new engine, amongst other things. Brum had already claimed the cupboard under the stairs as his garage, since they didn't have one of their own. 

No one wanted to claim bedrooms yet. With no natural pairings making themselves apparent, they all decided they'd just sleep wherever they wanted to sleep each night, and not worry about owning any particular bed. It didn't stop the spare bed being immediately dragged into the master bedroom to make a space that would allow for Bev, Carl, and Ace to sleep together, should they need it. 

They had a yard with a washing line, but no garden and no shed. They could see right to the house opposite them, though it didn't look occupied. Brum did like the yard, though. He had somewhere to drive around in, and it was big enough he didn't feel closed in. He might even go for a drive down the new street and meet his neighbours. Perhaps he could now go on adventures again, just like he used to do.

A couple of hours later, two soldiers came by. One had indeed come around to get them registered, while the other was Roy's prison officer, a man by the name of Private Jeremy Harrison. The reality of Roy's predicament was made very apparent to him then as his prison officer outlined everything that was required of him. He also found out he had only been charged with being in possession of divination tools, since they didn't have any proof he'd ever actually used them. Roy suspected that had brought his sentence down. It didn't make him feel any better about it, though. He was given all the papers and ID he would need, and the place and hours of work that he would be expected to comply with. He didn't particularly like it, but at least it was a useful job. He'd been assigned to a dairy farm, one of three that had been set up, to provide milk for the emerging community. His hours were dreadful, if only for the early morning starts. But the alternative was worse. He only had to work six hours a day, six days a week. Starting early meant he'd be all done by noon, giving him plenty of time to himself. As long as he could merely wait out his sentence while living in their new home, he'd be happy to work long hours at a dairy farm. His freedom meant more to him than the inconvenience of 4am starts. 

While Roy was in another room with his prison officer, Bev, Carl, Ace, and Trevor were in the front room with the first soldier. They were required to fill out forms and nominate for work, and they were given ID cards that they would have to carry with them all the time. It was tediously normal, and while no one really did want to give so much information to soldiers, it was that, or get kicked out and live on their own, and no one wanted to do that all over again if they could help it. 

Brum found it all a very strange process to go through. He'd never had to do any of this before, and he couldn't always answer the soldier's questions properly. He didn't know how old he was, or when he'd first been created. He didn't know his name - apart from Brum - or that he had parents. He didn't think little cars had parents. He'd never had a job, and he didn't know the name of the museum man, either, nor the old address of the museum. He'd never owned anything at all, and there was nothing official with his name on it, except for the number plates on his front and rear bumpers. He felt bad for not being able to help the soldier, but he didn't think it was all his fault. He was just a little car, and had never had to worry about any of these things before. The soldier did the best he could, though, and he treated Brum just like he treated everyone else. Brum felt included, but also confused, particularly when the soldier tried to work out where to put his ID card. He tried to tie it to Brum's front grill, but it wouldn't say put. In the end, he admitted defeat, and left it with Bev to take care of.

It took an hour to get through all the paper work, and they all congregated in the kitchen once they were done. Roy looked grumpy, but didn't say anything. Brum was still confused about everything that had happened, but he tried to stay positive about it. He didn't want to be sad anymore, and he could go adventuring if he wanted to. He had not been given any work requirements by the soldier, who had decided he was probably best treated as a child, rather than an adult, and assigned Bev as his official guardian.

"Well, this is an interesting development," Bev said as he put some water on to boil. "I didn't expect them to give us a house."

"I didn't think they'd bloody convict me of having a pack of tarot cards. Two years! Two bloody years, and extra work. And before you lot say anything, yes, I'm glad that's all it is. I just wish I could remember how I'd been convicted in the first place. I still don't really remember, and that scares me," Roy said.

"Still think we should've stayed behind then? Maybe that wouldn't have happened," Bev said.

Ace shook his head. "Fuck no. I don't think we'd have had much of a choice anyway. I mean, this might end up being a terrible life, but maybe things might get better. Maybe once everyone's back in the city and things begin to get back to normal. Maybe then things will be alright. We should see if we can't get some vegetable seeds too. I reckon we should plant that yard up with as many veggies as we can. Fight the system. We managed it back in Sennen. Stands to reason we can do it here."

"That might not be such a bad idea, hey? Use the yard as a replacement allotment? We'll have to see if we can do that. I don't think they'd be daft enough to stop us growing things. We could increase the food supply that way, if we all grew veggies in our yards. Maybe we could raise chickens too, or ducks," Bev said.

"I'm not ruling out anything in a situation like this. They might say no to keep us reliant on their system. I don't know if they'd agree with that quite sensible logic," Roy said. 

Ace shrugged. "If all else fails, we'll stick some onions and potatoes and carrots in, dry up some tomato seeds and bodge up a glasshouse for them, and maybe wrangle some garlic to plant. Leftover provisions or something. Maybe we could trade for other things too, and share out the veggies to anyone who wants them. Even that would be better than nothing."

No one could disagree with that. It did sound like an excellent plan, and one that would help stretch whatever rations they would be given further, given they had the five of them to feed. Living a relatively normal life seemed like a good idea, at least for a while. 

"How are we going to handle your transformations? We're not exactly out in the middle of nowhere, and you might not have enough free movement to get somewhere safe. I don't want you guys getting in trouble like me. I'm not sure they'd be so kind to you if they ever found out," Roy said.

"I think it should be alright. I did talk to my wolf about it, and she talked about a potion that's meant to prevent them happening. I managed to gather all the ingredients before we left, as I had been considering using it if we took the boat to France. I'll grow as many as I can out in the yard, too, so I've always got a supply handy. It's just not safe to transform right now, and I think even Charlie's wolf knows that. Stopping the magic might be the one way to keep us all safe," Bev said.

Carl nodded. "He's right. It's too dangerous. Wolf feels threatened, but I've told him to settle down. He mentioned something about magic to stop transformations as well. I think we've both agreed it's for the best." 

"I'm not transforming round here, that's for sure. My wolf says he can control them though, and it's his decision to transform every month, not a compulsion he can't refuse. I can't say I'll miss it though," Ace said.

"You and I are going to have to have a long chat about that wolf of yours," Bev said. "I've never heard of a wolf acting like that before."

Ace shrugged. "We don't understand it either. But what can you do? It's just how it is with us."

"It'll be weird not having you running off every month though. I think I'll still be twitchy around the full moon anyway, with or without your transformations," Trevor said.

"I know, that's going to take some adjustment, but I do think it's the right decision. I'm not transforming in a city full of frightened people, not when they're probably still recovering from the zombies," Bev said.

"Plague," Ace corrected. 'It was a plague, remember?"

"Yes, that's right. It was a plague. Zombies aren't real, except of course that we saw them, and fought them, twice in one lifetime. I think that deserves some sort of award," Roy said.

"'I lived through two zombie apocalypses and all I got was this lousy t-shirt?'" Bev said. He offered a grin before turning serious. "You know what's puzzling me though? That night we got bombed. Why the bloody hell were they using wolfsbane? Why would they want to ward off werewolves? That's the only reason I can think of why they'd be using it." 

There was a moment of silence as everyone indeed realised the strangeness of what they'd witnessed. It had been a strange thing to do, to bombard the land with wolfsbane smoke. Roy hadn't considered the werewolves might actually have been the real targets.

"You're right, that _is_ strange. It didn't occur to me that they'd be using it for werewolves, particularly when they'd bombed the place while the moon was up, making sure any werewolves would be running about. Maybe they do believe in zombies after all if they're going to go to such lengths for werewolves. Maybe they assumed no one would be out there and so no one would know it had happened," Roy said.

"Maybe we really do need to keep a low profile then. I can't imagine they'd be too welcoming if they knew we'd escaped. We only did get out alive because the wolves hadn't gone very far and we could get back in time before we were killed. I still remember the burning pain in my nose and throat from it. Awful stuff," Bev said.

Ace agreed. "Every single joint ached. Yeah, like hot needles had been stuck in 'em. I reckon if they're trying to kill werewolves, I'd be really careful about those cards of yours, Roy. Seems they're going to war against the supernatural. And I can't even believe that's even possible these days. I didn't think they were that superstitious, let alone enough to do this."

Roy shook his head in disbelief, though it was the only explanation that made any sense. "After a zombie apocalypse, I'd be surprised if they didn't get weird like that. Just because the official explanation was plague, doesn't mean that's what everyone believes. I reckon there was enough out there who saw them for what they were and who don't buy the plague idea. Just because everyone's scared doesn't mean they're all going to be obedient."

Trevor shrugged. "True. I still think we could've made it to France, though. Maybe they wouldn't have come after us if we'd left. We'd have been able to escape that bombing, right?"

Roy shook his head. "Nah, I doubt it. I reckon they'd have done direct bombing next, with probably more wolfsbane, and the chances of us getting out of that would have been nil. You didn't see the scale of the smoke bombing. It went for miles and miles around. They wanted to be thorough, I bet, to make sure no one escaped."

Carl shivered. "Maybe Trev's right. Maybe we should've stayed behind. Maybe we'd have been halfway to France by now. I don't know how comfortable I am being here. Rations and work requirements and all this other bullshit is going to drive me mad. I'm not sure I want to do this all over again. I'd wager we're probably some of the few people left who do remember how it used to be after the war. They don't know how hard it's going to be, not with the way they've all grown up. This could go on for ten years, just like last time. We could still be on rations in 2017."

Trevor didn't like the sound of that at all. "No, it won't last that long. It can't. Surely it can't last that long. Why would it last that long?" 

Bev tried to offer some sympathy. "We've got no systems in place anymore. No economy, no politics, no bureaucracy, no agriculture. It'll take time to establish all that again, based on who's left and the skills we've all got. We're literally starting from scratch. I wouldn't be surprised if rationing lasted ten years either. Conserving resources while we recover enough to fend for ourselves sounds like a sensible idea, much as I hate it."

"Oh, stop being sensible, Bevan. It doesn't suit you," Trevor scowled. It was an irritating strain of truth, much as Trevor hated to admit it. It didn't mean he was going to like it, though.

* * *

The first night in his new home was strange, Brum thought, even though he did sleep very well. Knowing he was back among people again, back in his own home, made him feel happier. He liked being around people very much. He was eager to explore the street now that they'd settled in, though he had to wait for someone to wake up and let him out, because Brum just couldn't open a locked door, and he'd already explored every inch of the ground floor rooms, leaving him nothing to do but wait and then go exploring.

The sun was out as he drove out onto the street. No one else seemed to be about, though, as he drove around. The street seemed very quiet, as if everyone was still asleep, or maybe they'd all just left again. It was an unsettling thought, but then as he turned down a street and found a park, he saw some children playing on their own. Brum eagerly drove up to them, but they didn't seem to want to play anymore and ran off when they saw him approaching. 

Crestfallen, Brum watched them go, wondering why they were frightened of him. "But I just wanted to play." 

Slowly, he turned and headed back to the road. He wasn't sure he liked this new world if children didn't want to come and have adventures with him anymore.

He saw soldiers all over the place. They weren't guarding every house, but he couldn't go a few streets without seeing a few here and there. Many streets were cordoned off completely. Some blocks had been completely flattened, and the first signs of new construction could be seen. Brum wondered if he could help, but the workers didn't look very friendly, and the soldiers kept shooing him away. 

The city centre was completely fenced off, with high walls topped with glass and razor wire. There were more soldiers here, and they pointed their guns at him as he got close, barking an order to leave. Frightened at being shot again, Brum left, deciding he wouldn't go anywhere near soldiers with guns, not if they were just going to shoot holes in him again. His paintwork was still not perfect from the last shot, and he missed how shiny it looked.

There was still a lot he recognised about the city, though. Enough had been kept that he could still navigate, though the absences were apparent the more he travelled through the streets. Eventually, he came across a familiar street, and finally remembered where he was. He was so close to his old home! The museum was just across the park! He could go back and see if the nice museum man was still there.

Excited, Brum drove on quickly, hoping to find his old home right the way he'd left it. He could imagine talking to the other cars about his adventures, and sneaking out in the mornings whenever the museum man opened up the workshop. He wanted to see the children again, and go adventuring with them. To theatres or to go catch robbers, or even to help out if he was asked. The temptation of returning to his old life, the one he loved and dreamed of ever since he'd left, urged him on. 

Across the park he went, past the pond and over to the bridge. It was only as he rounded the path back to the museum that he suddenly stopped in his tracks, braking hard as he saw nothing but a broken ruin, burnt to the ground. Every building near it had been burnt, as well as part of the parkland nearby, and it had all been fenced off. He could not go home. The sight of that burnt ruin left him sad and frozen to the spot, unable to believe it had been burnt. 

"But I just wanted to see them one last time. I just wanted to go home again," Brum said softly, sadness filling him up.

He could not bear to look away. He wanted to move, but his wheels would not work. He saw the flames, consuming everything. When he'd been travelling, he had always hoped that he could just go back to the museum, and everything would go back to normal. But that illusion had just been shattered. It lay in the ashes, ruined. This was the reality he hadn't wanted to see. He hadn't wanted this to happen at all, and he still didn't understand why they'd burnt his home. It was the only place he had ever lived, and the only place he'd ever felt safe. He could not believe it was gone. 

"But what am I going to do now?" 

All he wanted to do was break through the fencing and just stay there, even though there was nothing left. He thought he'd seen part of a broken headlamp, and feared the rest of the cars in the museum may have been burnt along with the buildings. That he had escaped such a fate when they did not made him feel bad. He did not even know if the museum man was still alive. Maybe he had been burnt too! 

Panic, guilt, and grief consumed him. Finally willing himself to move, he drove around the perimeter fence, for no other reason than he needed to see it all. He needed to believe it was all gone before he could leave. He didn't know what else to do.

But he didn't get his chance. As he was coming round to the front, a couple of soldiers appeared, and shouted at him to leave. With their guns pointed at him, Brum took the hint and drove off as fast as he could, frightened and sad. Leaving his home behind for good, he did not look back.

He didn't stop until he found himself in another park further away. There were no children, and he didn't know where he was or how to get back to Harbourne. Finally stopping at the edge of a lake, he just did not know what to do. Everything was gone now, and all he had left was Roy and Trevor and the wolves. They were the only friends he had left in the world. Everything else had been taken from him.

"What am I meant to do? I don't understand any of this," Brum said as he watched a duck swim past. "I just want to go home. I just want to go home."

After a long while, he finally left the lake to make his way back to Harbourne, his heart broken, as he left his cherished home behind in the dust. He wasn't sure he could ever be happy again.

* * *

It took Brum all afternoon to find his way back to their house in Harbourne. There had been many checkpoints he'd had to pass through, and they wouldn't let him pass unless he showed them his papers. But he was a car, he was not used to needing them, and the request was too strange for him to understand when it was asked of him. He didn't understand what he needed, and they didn't really explain it in a way he understood. When he told them he'd just arrived, and he didn't have anything with him, and he was staying in a house in Harbourne with friends, they did back off and let him pass, though they did tell him he needed to get his friends to sort out his papers for him so he'd always have them with him in case he needed them. 

It was a distressing encounter. Brum had never been treated this way before, and had never had anyone ask him for papers to prove who he was. He was just a little car. What did he need to prove that? He thought that's what the plates on the front and back of him were for. In some ways, they were treating him like they treated everyone else, but it just made Brum intensely aware that he was not like everyone else. Being a little car meant things, and not everyone understood how that made life different for him.

He didn't like this new world he was in. The museum was destroyed, and there was nothing good to do anymore. He had nothing to do. He had been given no work to do, so he could not be helpful. Without children to play with, he would be left on his own all day. Brum didn't like that, and he wished he was able to live in the world properly, like everyone else did. 

As he drove back to Harbourne, he thought about what it would be like to be human, to look like everyone else around him. It wasn't that they didn't include him in everything, but sometimes, he felt they expected more from him than he was capable of, and he didn't know how to tell anyone that he couldn't do everything. He was just a sad, little car, and he couldn't go up stairs, or remember to carry his papers, or go to work to help people. He felt useless, and he didn't know what to do.

He found Roy sitting out the front as he got home. Driving up to him, Brum wanted to talk to him about all the thoughts he'd had as he'd found his way home, but as he looked up at Roy, sitting there with a soldier behind him keeping an eye on him, he decided against it. Soldiers still made him nervous, and he'd picked up Roy's paranoia about not saying too much around them. 

"Alright, Brum? Where've you been? You been out all day?" Roy said.

"Oh, I - I went for a drive. I wanted to see - well, I don't know this part of the city, and I wanted to explore. And - oh, Roy, I went back to the museum, I did, and they'd burnt it down! Oh, Roy. They burnt it down. They burnt down my home," Brum said.

"Oh, Brum, that's terrible. I'm so sorry." Roy reached over and rested a hand on his bonnet. 

Brum could feel it, and he appreciated the gesture. He felt his whole body sink in despair. "I have nothing left, and I don't understand this world I'm in. I'm just a little car. What am I meant to do? There's nothing to do. I don't know what to do anymore. I'm not sure I like them treating me like I'm human. I'm just a little car. They don't smile and understand me like they used to do, before the apocalypse came. I don't have hands. I don't have ... all the things you have. I just can't do certain things. Why don't they understand that?"

Roy didn't particularly have any answers, but he felt he ought to try to help him out if he could. "I'm sure they don't mean anything by it. I mean, most of 'em probably aren't used to you. Maybe they ain't never seen you before, and they don't know what you need help with. What happened, Brum?"

"I kept running into soldiers as I was making my way home, and they kept asking me about papers, but I didn't know what they meant. I don't understand this, Roy. What are they talking about? Why do I need to have papers with me? Where would I keep them? I'm just a little car. I don't have hands. I don't understand this, and I told them this, but they just explained it all again and I still didn't know. I'm a car, Roy. I'm just a little car. I've never needed these papers. I don't know why I need them. What are they? Can you help me understand this? I'm afraid I'll never be able to go exploring again if I don't find out what these papers are and figure out how to carry them with me. I can't put them in the back with me, they'd get wet and fall out in the wind. Where can I keep them? I don't have anywhere to keep papers. I'm worried I'm going to get in trouble if I don't know what it is I need to do," Brum said.

Roy glanced up at the soldier standing behind him. He was keeping an eye on him still, but he didn't seem to want to get involved. Deciding it might be better to do things officially than bodge something up, he felt it time to talk to the soldier. "Hey, so, can we fix up something for little Brum here? I mean, he's a car, and he's been asked for his papers, but I'm not sure he can really carry them or produce them if asked, so maybe we need to work out something else for him?" 

The soldier looked down at them, and seemed surprised to see an actual talking car just sitting there beside Roy. He could see Roy's point, now that he saw the car. Perhaps some new arrangement would have to be made for him. "I'll talk to my superiors and see if we can organise something for him."

"Thanks, mate. I mean, he's just a little car who likes going on adventures. He's not going to cause any trouble, are you, Brum?" Roy asked.

Brum looked up at the soldier, trying to convince him he was a good little car. "Oh, no, I never do bad things, Mr Soldier. I just like driving around, talking to people. I used to catch bad people too, before things all went bad. I caught bad people and I helped people out. That's what I like doing. Can I still do that now? Only no one seems to want to let me do anything. I don't want to be left on my own. Is there anything I can do to help? Everyone else is working except me. I feel bad for that. I want to be useful, if you need me."

The soldier's face seemed to soften as he came out and knelt in front of Brum. "You're just like a kid, aren't ya? I heard some of the guys at base talking about you, but I didn't believe 'em till now, now that I've met you. Look, you leave it with me, alright? I'll sort something out for you. We might be able to find something for you to do." He turned back to Roy as he checked his watch. "Alright, I'd best be off. I'll be back tomorrow to take you to the farm. Your work begins tomorrow. I want you up and ready to go at 4:30am. I'll escort you for the next month to make sure you're there on time. No grumbling or being late, alright? I'll be up early as well. Just - look, can I give you some advice, both of you? Everything's a mess right now. Just save us the trouble and just follow the rules for now, alright? I know they're harsh, and no one likes them, but we need them to keep everything from falling back into chaos. Be thankful someone decided to give you a home. You might've ended up in prison, and your friends in the camps. Just remember that, alright? Don't make things worse for you than they need to be."

Roy could read between the lines well enough, understanding what he was being warned about. Roy watched him go, wondering if there was perhaps a little more hope around than he'd expected. He got up and gestured Brum inside. "Come on, Brum, we'll have more of a talk later, alright?" 

Brum wasn't sure he'd really understood most of what the soldier had said, but followed Roy inside anyway. One of the first things they'd done when they got the house was rig up a ramp for Brum to use, so he could get up the front steps on his own. Brum appreciated it, and he was getting quite good at it now. They went through to the front room, where it was easiest for Brum to move around. Roy found Bev there, and sat down beside him.

"Still being a good prisoner then?" Bev said as a way of greeting.

Roy brushed him off. "Got work tomorrow. Up before dawn. I really don't want to hear it right now, alright?" 

Bev backed off. "Hey, I was just asking. Are you alright, though?"

"Yeah, I'm alright. I just want to get through this sentence and then maybe run away. I don't know." Roy sighed. "It's hard to get excited about anything, really, and I know I'll only care about work until the damn thing's done. It's not much of a life, but it is better than the alternative. Private Harrison did remind me you could've been in the camps, and me stuck in prison, so yeah. I'm trying to make the best of a bad situation. Brum's been out exploring too, haven't you?"

Brum looked up at them, trying to be excited about telling tales of his adventures like he used to be, but his heart just wasn't in it anymore. "I have. Oh, but Bev, they burnt down the museum! They burnt down my home. I feel horrible. I don't know what to do now. I really don't have a home anymore, except with you. There's no one else. I feel so terribly alone."

Bev sympathised. "Oh, man, that's awful. I'm so sorry to hear that. They shouldn't have done that. You know you can stay with us as long as you want, right? I mean, it's not the museum, but any home's better than none at all, I reckon."

"I - thank you, Bev. I really appreciate it. But I might go to bed now, I'm awfully tired and heartsick. I need to rest, and maybe I'll dream of nice things. I'll see you tomorrow," Brum said.

"Goodnight, Brum. I hope you do sleep well. I think you need it," Bev said.

"Yeah, I'll see you when I get home, I'll be leaving early. Sweet dreams, Brum. Dream of better times, not what was left behind," Roy said.

Brum promised he'd do his best, and bid them goodnight. He left the front room and drove back to his cupboard under the stairs, where it was dark and cosy. He was very tired and feeling very sad. His tyres were sore, and all he wanted to do was go to his little cupboard under the stairs and sleep. He didn't want to think about papers or soldiers or checkpoints or anything like that. He just wanted to dream about the museum, and remember what it looked like. If he could remember that, he might forget the burning ruin he'd seen earlier that day. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much if he could still remember the museum and forget what he'd really seen. Settling down in the dark cupboard, he switched off his engine and went to sleep, hoping for good dreams to bring him some peace.


	12. Chapter 12

**Epilogue**

I can't say it was the most miserable existence I've ever lived through. It was better than living on canned food, walking ten miles a day, and sleeping on concrete. But not by much. I still don't know what was worse; the Apocalypse, or what happened afterwards.

Scared people do irrational things when Apocalypses happen. I can't blame them for that anymore. Control was taken away from them under unjustifiable conditions, and it will never be returned. I don't pretend like democracy is still alive anymore. It died in the waters of the Apocalypse. England is no longer free, and no one remembers when it ever was, not anymore.

Children have grown up knowing only this tired existence. They came afterwards. They starved and worked and lived in pitiful conditions because everyone was too scared. Locked in camps and shunted away in ghettos. Barely educated beyond what was deemed necessary. Soldiers still patrol the streets. Occasionally, gunfire can be heard, and another house might become vacant the next morning.

I tried speaking out. I tried to fight it. All it got me was broken bones and madness. I haven't been able to walk for over a decade. Confined to my bed, all I can do is write, and hope maybe someone finds this and succeeds where I failed. It is a long and arduous task. My hands still do not work properly. But someone must record what happened. The world isn't ready for my story yet. Maybe when it becomes ancient history, maybe then they will listen and understand. Maybe then, all this pain will have been worth it.

Roy Wood  
July 17, 2023


End file.
